Unexpected Bonds
by TheVampireElise
Summary: The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few.. Or the one. But sometimes the needs of the one, outweigh the needs of both the many and few. Spock watched his Captain die, then watched him return to life. It changed their friendship, and perhaps how they felt about eachother, but who ever said they were good at communicating surely did not know Spock or James T. Kirk.
1. Nice Loin Cloth

It was a routine diplomatic mission. Until it wasn't. It was supposed to be a quick visit to a slightly primitive and aggressive society, with the good ole "Hello, we're the United Federation of Planets!" speech. Followed by dinner with their leaders as a formality, then right back to the comfort of the USS Enterprise. But no, as fate would've had it, the civilization was more than just _slightly_ aggressive and primitive, and they did not understand nor appreciate the casual colloquialisms of one James Tiberius Kirk.

Captain Kirk received orders at 0700. Go to a planet in the outer rim that has only recently discovered space travel, investigate the means of which have provided for the odd and sudden advancement, under the pretense of simple introductions. He made his way to the bridge and informed Mister Sulu of their mission and coordinates, to which they arrived at in only a few hours. "Captain, who will accompany you? Due to my extensive knowledge of Xenolinguistics, and the inhabitants of this planet having only a basic understanding of Federation Standard, I believe I should join you." Lieutenant Uhura stated matter-of-factly.

"Alright, Spock, Uhura you two will beam down with me. Remember, we are here to investigate their premature advancement, without causing suspicion." The Captain commanded as his first officer and communications officer both gave similar curt nods.

The Enterprise's 'Diplomatic Landing party' beamed down to the surface, and were greeted by a group of humanoid aliens with skin deepened by the planet's sun. They had several ridges decorating their faces, from their cheekbones to temples. The majority did not have hair, only more intricate ridges and tattoos of a sort gracing their heads. They wore pelts and hides of unknown animals and spoke slowly with proper Standard but thick accents. "Cap-tain. Welcome, I am the... Advisor to our Prince. We will take you to our dining hall." The tall alien in the middle spoke.

"Thank you, lead on," Jim replied putting on his professional, commanding charm. They passed by many tents varying in size, covered in more odd animal furs. As they reached a large makeshift building, Jim noticed a metallic glint from behind the side of it. "Look, do you see that? What could that be?" the Captain whispered inquisitively to Spock and Uhura.

"I can't see all of it but it looks almost like... a Klingon shuttle." Uhura whispered back.

"What the hell is a Klingon shuttle doing here?" Jim wondered quietly.

"Perhaps that could explain the sudden technological advancements found here Captain." Spock interjected. Jim and Uhura nodded in agreement, all beginning to tense ever so slightly. They continued walking, following their guide, finally reaching the building which they assumed held the dining hall.

"Nice uh... loincloth, must be nice and breathable." Kirk tentatively spoke to fill the awkward silence between them and their guides. He and his party were being led through a hall with impossibly high ceilings for how primitive the construction seemed. There was an oddly musty and disconcerting, freshly killed animal smell floating through the hall. The captain let out a nervous chuckle as their second guide slowly turned as he came to a sudden halt.

"You dare make suggestive comments towards the Prince's consort?" they struggled to keep up with the accents and limited knowledge of Standard, but the accusation was quite clear.

"No, no! I apologize, I was simply trying to make casual conversation." Jim explained with growing anxiety, he did not want to upset yet another delegation, or alien prince or princess, especially since they could not yet explain the Klingon vessel, and their hosts were beginning to seem more and more unpredictable. He tried to hold back another nervous laugh beneath the apologetic horror he was experiencing.

"Seize him! And ensure the rest leave at once!" the alien barked at nearby guards.

"Captain!-" Spock began, voice uncharacteristically concerned.

"Spock, Uhura, back to the ship now!" Jim commanded firmly, "The last thing we need is another diplomatic disaster. I'll deal with this so do what they say, I'll be fine. " their Captain continued quietly trying to project confidence, but slightly failing. Spock looked at his Captain and could feel the nervousness that was being hidden, letting slight hesitation slip as he spoke, feeling more panic then he led on.

"Yes, Captain." He then managed in his usual calm, calculated manner. And with that, Spock and Uhura left, with a less than gentle shove out. Their captain now completely out of sight and in the hands of unknown aliens seemingly in possession of Klingon technology.

 ** _A few months prior..._**

For quite a while Jim had been feeling... strange. Ever since the great debacle with Khan, when he'd only sort of died. He felt as if he and his first officer had become closer friends as a positive side effect in recent months, despite their earlier reintroduced difficulties. But with that, he began noticing odd ...new... feelings and thoughts concerning his half-Vulcan crew member. Things he had been attempting to forget about. He noticed it first when Spock had left his side after he'd been revived by Bones and Khan's regenerative blood. He was incredibly relieved when he awoke, not simply because he was alive, but at the sight of Spock unharmed and at his side. When his first officer inevitably soon after had to part with him to return to his post, Jim felt a pang of... something... in his chest, followed by a strange sense of emptiness. But as he normally did with complex emotions, especially compromising ones concerning his friends, he ignored it and decided it was simply a side effect of dying and returning to life.

The thing was, it continued. Jim would feel his mood almost instantaneously improve when he'd see Spock. He found himself just biding his time waiting for their next chess game, or casual conversation at breakfast. The few times his hand had brushed Spock's, or they'd accidentally met eyes when he'd been subconsciously staring in his first officer's direction, Jim nearly had a damn heart attack. It had been long since he had tried his very best to quell and supress any and all... attraction.. he felt towards his First Officer, so as it continued, the Captain continued to try and ignore it, tried to just enjoy Spock's presence when he got to, and act as casually and nonchalantly as he could. Especially after certain events that had occured prior to the launch of their five year mission. One day, it was particularly difficult though...

Jim walked over to his first officer's quarters that were just beside his own. Their doors were almost always locked, due to rare need to visit each others personal quarters. But he decided to knock on the door gently anyways. It was nearing Alpha shift and Spock had not joined him for breakfast as he usually did. Thus Jim was wondering with a slight twinge of concern hiding underneath the humourous curiousity, whether the rigidly punctual Vulcan perhaps slept in somehow, or had simply forgotten about their usual breakfast plans. There was no answer at the door but Jim saw that it was unlocked, feeling a slightly uncomfortable knot form at the bottom of his stomach. He decided to press on and open the door, "Spock..?-" he began with a light nervous chuckle. What he saw though, he was in no way prepared for.

"Captain, I apologize for missing our appointment for breakfast. I found myself in need of meditation." The dark-haired man spoke calmly with only a slight tweak of his right eyebrow. But below those attentive and ever questioning Vulcan brows, below his face was his body. Oh, his body. It was on display in no way Kirk had ever witnessed before. Spock was wearing his earth-toned Vulcan meditation robes, which looked very soft and were continually slipping off one shoulder. Although, not quite as impossibly soft as the pale skin of his toned chest peeking out from beneath the silken fabric. Kirk felt a shiver of deja-vu for a short second, before snapping back into the moment.

Jim's jaw dropped open slightly, only to snap shut to avoid being too terribly obvious. "Oh god, Spock uh.. I'm sorry to have interrupted you. I was... um... I'll get out of your hair." Kirk sputtered out with a growing rose flush appearing on his face.

Spock stepped closer and spoke inquisitively, "You are assuredly not in my hair Captain, that is quite an illogical phrase due to the obvious fact that you are not at all close enough to be in any way 'in my hair'." One eyebrow rose slightly, an onlooker might assume that Spock was maybe, perhaps flirting with the flustered man in front of him, but Jim 'knew better' and brushed it off as the Vulcan's usual picking apart of human vernacular. But very oddly, the raven-haired half-Vulcan continued to step closer to his captain, closer than they'd ever be under most circumstances. Until he was close enough to really see the pink hue speckling Jim's face, close enough to feel Jim's held in puffs of breath. "I'd reason that you'd have to be at least this close in proximity, to be in my hair, Captain." Spock spoke again with a slightly raised eyebrow and a tiny quirk of the corner of his lips. His perfect, wonderful lips...

The blonde man couldn't help but look upon and appreciate the perfectly curved and distinct lips that had spoken. "I.. suppose you are correct mister Spock. I will, um.. I'll see you on the bridge!" Jim awkwardly laughed and patted Spock on the shoulder, in a way that was almost a slap, as he nearly stumbled out of the entrance to retreat back into his own personal quarters.

Once the door slid shut with a familiar metallic swoosh, the half Vulcan's lip quirked yet again as he quietly noted to himself, "How curious."

AN/ Well oh boy, this is the first fic I've written in damn years, but I love Spirk way too much, and am waaaaayy too bored at work to have not started writing this. I already have a couple more chapters possibly in the works, so it shall be continued. Since I am very rusty with writing this type of thing, any constructive criticism and feedback would be VERY appreciated. Thanks to anyone who reads this! :)


	2. The Wrath of Spock

The central power grid had failed, auxiliary power had failed, and the USS Enterprise was caught in earth's gravity. It was beginning to seem as if Spock was experiencing exactly what he'd programmed into the Kobayashi Maru, a no-win situation. He had sounded for evacuation, then ordered the bridge crew to abandon ship. Quite unsurprisingly, they had refused, perhaps all too dedicated for their own good. As gravity systems failed, all they could do was hold on. Even emergency power was running out, and it was running out fast. Spock ordered Sulu to divert any remaining power to stabilizers, as they continued to plummet.

"I'm doing what I can sir, doing what I can!" Sulu had replied. They were supposed to be young, fearless explorers. But fear had begun to set in, as they were desperately trying to save the ship and themselves. "If we don't get power to shields back online, we're going to be incinerated on re-entry!" he'd continued in panic. The Enterprise kept falling, pieces of the outer hull burning up in Earth's atmosphere, some of the crew already resigning themselves to their seemingly inevitable end. Then suddenly, and somewhat unbelievably, "Warp core is back online!" the young helmsman exclaimed.

"Maximum thrusters, Mister Sulu!" the Vulcan ordered, his heart still racing.

"Stand by, stand by!" Sulu yelled back, doing all he could, as he began to feel relief creeping its way in. They fell through the clouds, but then quite impossibly, the ship's battered thrusters managed to raise them back above the skyline. The crew reported that power was back online, "Mister Spock, altitude stabilizing." Sulu reported, allowing the relief finally wash over him as he couldn't help but grin.

"It's a miracle." An ensign continued with a smile.

Spock frowned at the prospect, as he responded, "There are no such things..." He had felt his panic begin to abate, but could not help as he felt a sudden shift, an emotion he could not name as he had only felt it perhaps once before. It was similar to the jarring stab of fear and loss he'd experienced watching his mother fall to her death. A bridge communicator sounded off and returned his attention to the matter at hand.

"Engineering to bridge, Mister Spock?" Scotty's gruff Scottish baritone came through.

"Mister Scott," Spock replied, frown deepening slightly.

"Sir, you'd better get down here, better hurry..." Scotty continued with a somewhat pained quality to his voice. Something of realization dawned upon the half-Vulcan as he sharply inhaled and instantly jolted out of the captain's chair and broke into a sprint. He ran all the way down to engineering, panting lightly as he finally approached Scotty. Seeing the 'panicked' Vulcan did nothing but make the lump in Scotty's throat grow, he tried to swallow it, but still could not speak. His eyes burned as he followed behind Spock.

Spock had turned and quickly made his way over to the small entrance to the warp reactor. He looked inside and felt his control over his emotions begin to shatter, as he turned back to the pained Scottish man. " _Open it."_ The Vulcan ordered, trying to keep himself composed.

"The decontamination process is not complete, you'd flood the whole compartment." Scotty replied, voice filled with grief in his attempt to hold back tears. "The door's locked sir..." he continued. Spock looked back to the hatch, eyebrows drawn together as he stepped closer and slid down in front of the thick glass. He looked at his captain with worry, fear, and pain all etched into his face and quickly moistening eyes. His hands shook and grasped at the glass as Jim laboured to breath and crumpled against the wall behind him. Jim's hand slowly reached up and pressed the commands to close the main hatch to the warp core directly behind him. His hand fell and he loudly struggled to exhale. Spock's eyes darted around, examining his captain. He saw that his usually golden skin was yellowing and bruised, his lips were chapped and blistering slightly, and those beautiful glistening blue eyes were now red and puffy. His dear friend looked up, trying to meet the dark eyes that were now clouded with emotion, becoming bloodshot with unshed tears.

"How's our ship?" Jim inquired softly, as he made an effort to keep his eyes on his first officer.

"Out of danger." Spock replied as his eyebrows quirked up only to stitch back together immediately, breath hitching in his throat as his lip quivered for a tiny second. "You saved the crew." He told his captain, voice filling with more emotion than he'd scarcely ever allowed.

"You used what he wanted against him..." Jim managed to get out, continuing to pant. "That's a nice move." He added, attempting his trademark smirk to convey the intense... admiration... and pride he felt blooming in his chest. Perhaps it was simply his arteries bursting from radiation exposure, he thought to himself. He noticed that his close half Vulcan friend was still staring down at him, eyes glassy, red, and never leaving his own.

"It is what you would have done." The corner of Spock's lip rose slightly before he replied as his voice wavered.

"And this..." Jim's eyes fell for a moment before staring back up at him and continuing quietly, "This is what you would have done. It was only logical." Spock's jaw dropped open only slightly as his eyes panicked, feeling his heart constrict and falter in his side. Jim swallowed and struggled to breathe, to find the words, "I'm scared, Spock." he spoke as he painfully and sharply inhaled, feeling as if his lungs were filled with burning acid, "Help me not be."

Spock's brows furrowed further as warm tears gathered beyond his inner eyelids, nearly clouding his vision. His lips and nostrils quivered as he felt as if he too was suffocating, pain twisting his heart beyond repair. "How do you choose not to feel?" Jim asked, voice cracking and looking forward, a strained tear falling down his face.

The Vulcan struggled to inhale as he shook his head lightly and answered, "I do not know..." Sorrow filled his voice more with every word as he continued, "Right now I am failing." Jim looked back at him, raising his eyes to meet Spock's again.

"I want you to know why I couldn't let you die, why I went back for you." The human captain felt a need for urgency as he realized his organs were failing, mind fading with every moment. He spoke as clearly as he could, forcing his aching lungs to function.

The tears that had gathered in Spock's deep chocolate eyes finally spilled out and ran down to his shaking jaw as he attempted to finish the statement for him. "Because you are my friend." He stated feeling shame and dread at all the time he'd spent arguing and stubbornly criticising someone now so dear to him.

Jim's breath hitched as blood leaked into his lungs and tried to make its way up his throat. ' _That wasn't exactly what I was going to say, but close enough.'_ Jim thought to himself, he reckoned he wouldn't have been able to finish his statement anyways. He raised his hand to the glass utilizing nearly the last of his strength to do so. Spock quickly placed his hand against his captain's, fingers drawn apart in the Vulcan salute, acutely aware of the glass separating them. He glanced at their joined yet separated hands, as he saw him struggle to slowly but surely reciprocate the gesture on the inside of the hatch. Spock's eyes quickly returned to Jim's face, tears continuing to streak his own. Jim's eyes were glossing over as he pained to pull his lips into a smile and look up into those endless dark eyes above him, shadowed with grief.

It was then that Spock witnessed _his_ captain, _his_ friend, _his Jim,_ the strangely golden light that had made its way into his rather grey life, be completely snuffed out. His breath shallow, he was nearly hyperventilating when he saw Jim's hand slowly fall, body slumping and impossibly bright blue eyes losing their light. His hands slipped down the glass, and his gaze bore into the ground.

Behind him, Scotty could no longer hold his own tears back, and Uhura ran up behind him, coming to an immediate halt. Any thoughts of happy relief gone in an instant as her breath caught in her throat, hands rushing to cover her mouth as she sobbed at the sight in front of her. Spock's breathing and feelings of intense sorrow and grief changed with the sudden addition of pure, seething rage. Control slipping away, he cried out, his voice carrying a complete primal fury that neither he nor Scotty or even Uhura had ever heard before. "KHAAAAN!" 

Immediately then after, Spock ran back to the turbo lift and back to the bridge, blood boiling in his anger. Uhura and Scotty followed him in tow, feeling rather distraught. "Search the enemy ship for signs of life." Spock spat out the order as he arrived on the bridge.

"Sir, there's no way anyone survived." Sulu replied incredulously.

" _He_ could." The Vulcan disagreed, intimidating gaze directed back at the ship's helmsman.

"Yes, sir." Sulu answered feeling Spock's angry determination pouring out from him. "Whoa! He just jumped thirty meters!" the helmsman then reported, dreading that Spock was correct in his assumption of Khan's survival.

"Can we beam him up?" Spock asked, a tiny twinge of desperation joining his infuriation.

"There's too much damage, I have no incoming signal." Chekov scrambled to find a solution, "But it may be possible to beam you down, sir."

Spock looked to Uhura, perhaps for assurance, but he knew he would still go despite what anyone could possibly say. "Go get him." Uhura spoke with a vengeful confidence in her voice, tears still lingering in her eyes. She looked back at the monitor as Spock dashed out of the bridge, to the transporter room.

"Stand by for coordinates." he spoke between breaths as he ran, the transporter operator waited and prepared for his arrival.

"Enter 3517 by 2598." Chekov told the operator precisely. The operator confirmed to coordinates, as familiar white light encircled Spock as he began to dematerialize. He re-materialized in the middle of the frightened and panicked crowd, spotting Khan as soon as he looked to his right. He locked eyes with him, conveying all the murderous, vengeful fury he was feeling. He instantly gave chase and sprinted after the bastard that had so recently taken away _his..._ captain. They ran through crowds and busy streets until Khan saw a valid mode of escape and leaped forward landing on a large industrial vehicle that was taking off. Spock followed and launched himself forward grasping the cold metal, holding on as it continued to rise farther from the ground. Khan rashly kicked at the Vulcan, then grabbed and threw him harshly with his superhuman strength. Spock struck the roof of whatever vehicle they were on top of, his determination being in no way dissuaded as he sprung up and dodged Khan's next few blows. They were nearly evenly matched in Spock's enraged state. The Vulcan managed to get a grasp on the junction between Khan's neck and shoulder, as he crushed down as hard as he could, attempting to immobilize him. The nerve pinch did not have its full effect due to Khan's genetic engineering, and he spun around, fists connecting with Spock's face painfully. No amount of pain could stop Spock's grief-fuelled wrath.

Back on the ship Bones was hustling around the med-bay after his sudden discovery of the possibility to save his best friend. He activated the communicator attempting to connect to Spock, "Enterprise to Spock, Spock!" he yelled through. Spock did not hear him as he was otherwise engaged... Khan threw him around before he locked both hands on either side of Spock's head, pressing with all his strength intending to crush the Vulcan's skull as he did Admiral Marcus'. Spock managed to reach up to press his lean fingers to Khan's psi points causing him to feel the same damage he was inflicting. With the Vulcan momentarily incapacitated, Khan stepped off the edge of the vehicle, landing on one quite similar below. Spock followed, very nearly missing his mark and falling to his death. But he climbed up promptly and his deadly brawl with Khan continued.

McCoy had informed the rest of the crew of the prospect of saving Kirk with Khan's blood, and they all jumped into motion trying to find a way to get both Spock and unfortunately, Khan back alive. With no way to beam them up, Uhura quickly offered to beam down to retrieve them.

Uhura appeared with a flash of swirling light, behind the two that were putting in all effort to end each other. The superhuman spun around to face Uhura as she proceeded to shoot him with her phaser multiple times, unable to fully stun him. Spock ripped off a piece of the vehicle and proceeded to hit Khan over the head with it, grabbing and then viciously breaking his right arm before flipping him down onto the hard metal. He nearly forgot Uhura was there, as he had been imparting all his vengeance on Khan's face repeatedly with renewed strength and anger.

Uhura shouted over the loud wind, whipping past them as they flew through the skyline, "Spock! Spock, stop! Stop! He's our only chance to save Kirk!" Spock finally registered that last statement and looked up at Uhura, showing the burst wound on his nose bridge, emerald coloured blood beginning to dry. His eyes that were previously impossibly dark with his animalistic need for violence, flashed with sudden hope. He looked down at Khan and snarled one last time as he threw a vicious uppercut to incapacitate the genetically modified mistake. And with that, Khan was unconscious, and Spock's heart, that was darkened with despair and indignation flickered with a tiny ray of golden light for but a moment. However illogical his hope seemed, Spock refused to accept this no-win situation.

 **AN/ It took me forever to edit this chapter, between work and everything else. I just couldn't be satisfied, I think I edited it on probably 12 different occasions, and I'm still on the fence about posting it. But at this point, I feel like I have to just put it down and let it be. Alright, well please feel free to point out any glaringly obvious mistakes and let me know what you think so far! Thanks! :)**


	3. Gilded Light

It had already been a week since Captain Kirk had died in the warp core. A week since Spock had beaten Khan within an inch of his miserable superhuman life, and since Bones discovered he could possibly save his closest friend. It may have required the genetically altered blood of the human augment, and thus required Spock to curb his drive for murderous vengeance, but they'd have done nearly anything to get Jim back. McCoy had managed to synthesize a serum from Khan's blood, prior to being placed back into cryogenic stasis with the remainder of his augment crew. The serum had wreaked havoc on Kirk's system, but it had indeed revived him, though he was seemingly comatose.

The second Spock had been beamed back to the Enterprise with Uhura and a thankfully unconscious Khan, he had run with the augment's limp form over his shoulder directly to the med-bay and threw him roughly onto the nearest bio-bed. The half-Vulcan felt that he could not bring himself to leave Kirk's side, but did not wish to hinder McCoy or any of the nurses during the procedure. Thus he settled on standing near the left corner of the room, where he could still observe while standing painfully stiffly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other subtly. He could feel a slight burning in his mind, something telling him to cling to Kirk and allow no one near him, allow no one to bring him harm ever again. Spock took in a ragged breath silently, shutting his eyes as he tried to clear his mind and calm himself.

It seemed like the longest week of any of their lives. As they arrived at the second week of Jim's comatose recovery, the entire crew of the USS Enterprise was on edge. Bones had been drinking much more frequently, with Scotty often joining him. The only time he was fully sober was when he was tending to Jim. No matter how worried and stressed as he was, he had a professional and personal pride when it came to patient care. Especially when that patient was his best friend. Uhura was mostly silent and high strung at this point, still shocked by not only the death and hopeful revival of her Captain but mainly the events that occurred between her and Spock. She had witnessed that day, more intensity from him than she ever had before. He had cried in sorrow and rage, and completely lost control of his emotions, because of Captain Kirk. And on the third day of Kirk's stagnant unconscious state, when she had visited him and Spock, her Vulcan companion had ended their romantic involvement. He had told her that he was emotionally compromised and no longer a valid match for her. She had stormed out after he had monotonously requested that they stay "friends". While after some time to cool off, she did agree to preserve their friendship, she was still somewhat irked by the previous events. Chekov and Sulu formed a habit of overworking themselves during their shifts and spending their nights mostly sitting in silence together, not really knowing how to fill it. Despite the differences in how all of them dealt with their current situation, they were all doing the same thing. They were all simply... Waiting. Waiting for their fearless Captain with his confident laughter and smug grin to return safely to his rightful spot on the bridge.

Spock, on the other hand, was not succeeding in distracting himself. From the moment the serum had settled in Kirk's blood, and the procedure was over, he had rarely left Jim's side. He tended to his necessary bodily functions but would return within a few short minutes. It was as if he were senselessly expecting his Captain's heart to suddenly cease beating if he were away too long. Spock had spent the majority of the previous week either sitting in an uncomfortable but functional chair beside Jim's bio-bed, pacing somewhat agitatedly from either side of the room, or attempting and usually failing to meditate. He had not yet slept since the debacle with Khan, so concentration had become increasingly difficult.

McCoy entered the med-bay quietly, as it was somewhere around 0100 and he had hoped Spock would have finally decided to get some rest. But to his disappointment and frustration, the half-Vulcan turned to greet him, with a tiny nod. The addition of continually darkening blue-green beneath his eyes was a dead giveaway to how exhausted the Commander really was. "Green-blooded hobgoblin..." the doctor mumbled under his breath before continuing, "Get some sleep, dammit!" he raised his voice slightly, agitation seeping out. But as a medical professional he knew, despite how Vulcans required less sleep than humans, they still needed somewhat of a rest cycle to remain fully functional.

"I am perfectly fine doctor." Spock replied calmly but weakly. He knew it was not sensible to prolong his lack of rest as he was becoming slowly less functional, but could not bring himself leave his friend physically or mentally.

"The hell you are Spock! I know Vulcans don't need as much sleep as we humans do, but that doesn't mean you can go weeks at a time without it! Get some sleep, he'll be fine." Bones spat out, annoyed with his own worry, his southern accent slipping a bit as he lost steam near the end of the sentence gripping his nose bridge and letting out a tired sigh.

It took a minute, but the stubborn Vulcan finally conceded. "You... Are correct Doctor McCoy. I will attempt to do so." The doctor rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement as he went about his business inspecting Jim's vitals and brain activity. He finished what he was doing quickly and efficiently, grumbling slightly as he did. Within 5 minutes he was on his way back to his quarters to down some bourbon and pass out in bed.

Spock let out a very quiet huff once McCoy had left the med-bay, relaxing slightly in his chair, posture still quite stiff. He closed his eyes for a moment before he reached over, and in a movement that could have been construed as quite uncharacteristic for the half-Vulcan, placed his hand gently on Jim's. He felt a sudden shock of electricity jolt up from his fingertips to his shoulder and a flash of golden light passed through his mind like a wave of contentment and tranquility. " _Ashayam..._ " Spock spoke the word below even a whisper as his vision began to darken and he couldn't help as sleep overtook him.

On the eighth day, Spock had woken up at 0800, after finally getting approximately 7 hours of oddly deep and peaceful sleep. It was likely the longest he had ever slept at one given time and had been the first time since he was very young that he had dreamt. Vulcans do not dream, and Vulcans also have exquisite control over their emotions. Both qualities of the species that Spock had adhered to and exhibited for many years, since his early childhood on Vulcan. It was only then, at a young age when he was still learning the cold, calculated ways of Vulcan culture, despite his half-human parentage, that he had experienced both emotional outbursts and dreams. He could remember having had dreamt once or twice when he was still attending the Vulcan Learning Centre, but could not recall the dreams themselves. And the only real emotional outburst he'd had as a child was when some of his peers, on their 35th attempt to elicit an emotional response, had turned the subject of their mocking from him directly, to the "Disgrace of his human mother and traitorous Vulcan father." After a stern talking to from his seemingly cold and disappointed father, there were assuredly no further outbursts.

That was, of course, until he met James Tiberius Kirk. Things had been drastically changing around him since the human had entered his life. Though Jim thoroughly aggravated him at first, as he was absolutely the most illogical being he'd ever encountered. With his arrogance, reckless behaviour and complete disregard for the rules and even his own safety. But once they'd become something more like friends, Jim mainly just perplexed Spock. He had unwittingly allowed himself to be compromised by Kirk after the destruction of his home planet, and the death of his mother. And now, he had fully lost control over his actions and feelings, again because of Kirk. He had cried openly, despite any onlookers. He had felt and displayed a savage rage and desperation he had never experienced before. And if it weren't for Uhura loudly informing him of the chance to save Jim, he would have very gladly _ended_ Khan Noonien Singh with his bare hands, without even a touch of remorse.

And to add to the strange occurrences in the previous year, he had slept so peacefully and deeply that he'd dreamt. In his dream, which he could not fully recall upon awakening, he found himself in an endlessly dark expanse. Spock looked around in the obscured darkness, then walked forward as he noticed an impossibly beautiful yet familiar golden light somewhat out of reach. The nearer he got, the more strange it seemed. Within that light were threads, like an intricate network, all connected to one unyielding link that he could not yet determine its beginning or end. He reached out for the link and as he grew closer and nearly grasped it he felt a rush of thoughts and emotions seemingly not his own, overwhelming him with a feeling of being perfectly complete. He was then suddenly awoken by the _swoosh_ of the med-bay door sliding open.

McCoy walked into the room housing his recovering friend, feeling perpetually tired despite getting some rest. Short stubble had begun to grow on his face, unsurprisingly his absolute last concern at this point was his appearance. He scratched his impending beard, and his scowl turned to slight surprise at the sight in front of him. Spock had been resting his head on the edge of Jim's bio-bed, with one hand lightly resting on Jim's. McCoy smirked for a second before attempting to replace it with his usual frown, to hide his amusement. Spock's head snapped up quickly, regaining his posture and composure instantly. One thing he couldn't fix in a single second was his jet black hair that was sticking up in every which way, on only the left side of his head. "Morning Spock, good to see you actually took my advice for once in your life!" Bones snickered quietly under his breath, wishing Jim would wake up and see it. His expression returned to being serious at that thought, and he decided to busy himself with his work.

Spock quickly gathered his bearings and stood up, replying curtly to Bones "Good morning doctor. I slept, as it was only logical to cease postponing my rest cycle." He began to walk towards the door, to go relieve his bodily needs and quickly feed himself.

"You could just say thank you! Damn pointy-eared bastard..." McCoy shouted and scoffed at the hurried Vulcan. He returned to examining Jim, checking vitals and brain activity from the previous night. For the majority of which, the readings were the same as it had been the whole week. Nominal sensory activity and non-REM sleep. But, between 0700 and 0800 Jim had finally fallen into proper REM sleep, and readings had spiked. Jim had been dreaming, for the first time in his current comatose state. "Well ain't that a helluva thing... Wonder what you were dreaming about..." Bones said quietly to Kirk, sighing as he knew he was wildly aware that he wasn't heard. He finished his morning duties in the med-bay quickly. Before he left, he walked over to the blondes sleeping form and brushed a stray hair off his forehead and spoke under his breath "Come on kid, get your ass up and back to annoying me and Spock. He's making me uncomfortable with his moping." Bones smiled, just a little, as he turned and left the room.

Within 10 minutes of departing, Spock had returned with his hair returned to its usual neatly styled state, with a change of clothes and his meditation mat. He had been attempting to meditate throughout the week, but all attempts were quite fruitless as he never managed to clear his mind completely. He hypothesized that a familiar environment would be more conducive for proper meditation. He looked at Jim for a few short seconds before placing the earth-toned mat on the floor and sitting down with his legs crossed. The half-Vulcan closed his eyes slowly and began to focus on his breathing which slowed to a deliberate pace, as his spine and shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. Once he reached an acceptable meditative state, he was able to enter his mental landscape. He began to try to process and organize all that had transpired recently in his mind. He tried to recall and rationally unfold the proceedings of late, starting with Khan's attack on Starfleet HQ. But he could not control his thoughts properly, as the memory of Christopher Pikes death simply launched his mind back to the moment of Jim's death. Feelings of anguish, grief, and anger surged through him immediately.

He finally conceded with a grimace in his mind, that he should work through this specific event. Spock began analyzing his thoughts to determine what caused his recent outpouring of emotion. Given the past and present context, it was most surely linked to Jim, perhaps even caused by him. But if so, what could explain the connection of such? He had become close to Lieutenant Uhura, yet he had not had anywhere near the same responses when things pertained to her. He tried to comprehend his thoughts from those moments outside the warp reactor, and as he chased and fought Khan. He had felt intense and excruciating anguish watching Jim fade away and then felt uninhibited fury that was directed at Khan for taking away _his_ Captain _, his_ friend. As he had sprinted after the superhuman he couldn't help the preposterous thoughts of _'How dare he? How dare he take away_ ** _my_** _captain,_ ** _my_** _Jim?'_ And as Spock learned that Jim could be saved, he felt an all-consuming _need_ to save him.

It was then that Spock realized it. He _needed_ Jim Kirk. He had once felt generally annoyed and vexed by the fool-hardy blonde, but with time it had slowly turned into respect and curiosity. He accepted Kirk's presence in his life, as he quickly caught on that he seemed to be stuck with him, whether it was due to circumstance, or later friendship. But only now did he come to grasp just how much he not only _needed_ Jim but how much he _longed_ for him. He also noted, with a slight frown gracing his usually controlled expression, the frighteningly quick progression of his feelings towards his Captain. Spock felt respect and admiration for Jim Kirk, but it had then advanced into protectiveness, quickly turning to possessive even... The half-Vulcan was quite obviously aware of the lack of logic in feeling possessively towards another living being. His eyebrows creased slightly further as he tried to then return to memories of his lessons on Vulcan history and culture as a child. _'Perhaps the explanation lies here, in past teachings.'_ Spock anticipated as he recalled with perfect clarity his father's voice, then he fell back into the memory, listening intently to his father's every word. He had not had reason to remember of many of these things for a long time, and about halfway through the lesson, he heard it. The word that Spock had nearly forgotten, the word that put everything into place and made sense of his actions and thoughts. **_T'h'yla_**.

 **A/N - Aight bois, well this whole story is just spiraling out of my control. At first I had intended for it to be a one or two shot, three chapters at the most. But here we are at chapter three and I'm barely getting started. I have so much planned for this and I just hope I can keep up with my motivation to actually finish this story. ALSO TRANSLATION FOR VULCAN WORDS = the first one "Ashayam" basically means love (a term of endearment) and the second one "T'h'yla" shall be explained in the next chapter BONUS POINTS to anyone that already knows ;)**

 **As per usual, please leave reviews and feedback, they give me not only the will to write, but the will to live and are in general thoroughly appreciated. :')**


	4. Childhood Lessons

At a rather young age by human standards, Vulcan's are commonly bonded with a chosen partner. The pairs are often decided by social standing, position and the families involved. So once Spock was of a certain age, he was also to be bonded with an appropriate match. In the days prior to the bonding, Sarek had found it necessary to begin teaching his son about the significance of bonds within Vulcan history and culture. Spock also learned, in more depth, of the Vulcan Reformation and Time of Awakening. He also learned completely new things as well, such as the animalistic and savage ways of their ancestors, which included the act of taking mates and marking them. How they would stake their claim on those whom they wished to bond with, as well as those of which their Katra naturally called and pulled them to. Bonds like that were historically quite common and were intensely strong, nearly unbreakable while unintentional. The word that was used for such bonds was T'h'yla. The word itself had multiple meanings. Brother, friend and lover were among the most common descriptions. It was a bond between two people that were incredibly mentally compatible, a life-long companion, and somewhat comparable to the human ideology of "Soulmates". Deep bonds that could be categorized as such still existed within modern Vulcan society but were now increasingly rare. Spock also discovered that Vulcans were once a violent and emotional people. They were free and open with their feelings and displayed everything from anguish and fury to love and passion intensely and deeply, without question. Spock's father explained all of this patiently to him, continuing, "Long ago, our ancestors were ruled by their emotions and not by logic as we are now. They constantly waged war with one another and came very close to fully destroying themselves before Surak brought forth philosophies of logic, control and pacifism. Without which, we as a people would have presumably fallen." Sarek spoke knowingly with a peaceful neutrality. Spock lifted his head and gaze to his fathers as he questioned evenly, "Do I possess a bond such as that?" His father who was usually ever so stoic, quirked his lip ever so slightly, with a kind glint in his eyes. Both of which went right over young Spock's dark brown hair covered head. "It is a possibility Sa-fu. The ancients assumed that a T'h'yla was brought to one by 'fate' or 'destiny', a life-long companion that holds an improbably compatible mind. Such a bond was also said to be unbreakable, which we now know is somewhat false. Should the bond be broken or one's T'h'yla were to perish, it is known to be inherently painful and nearly unbearable." Spock looked into his father's eyes, giving him his full and complete attention. He thoroughly enjoyed learning from his father and hearing him speak at length. "The one I am to bond with tomorrow, they are not... T'h'yla?" Spock struggled ever so slightly as the new word graced his tongue. Sarek's lip quirked subtly yet again, continually patient with his young son. "It is not known. You will meet her tomorrow, although we would be alerted to the presence of a preexisting bond as the two of you are melded." The young eager Vulcan did not skip a beat before frowning slightly as he inquired, "Sa-mekh if a stronger bond such as T'h'yla is a possibility, why create a weak bond with someone who could be incompatible, or even simply less so than another? Why not instead search for the strongest and most truly compatible bondmate? It does not seem logical..." He trailed off a bit as he spoke, processing the information and logic or lack-there-of in bonding with someone whose mind was not compatible with his own. His fathers face softened in a way that was nearly inconceivable, amused with his son's intense line of questioning as he responded, "It is because, as previously mentioned, T'h'yla bonds are incredibly rare. It is currently only 6.023% of the living Vulcan population that have the privilege of acquiring such a bond-mate." Spock's angled brows creased together but he nodded in understanding.

The following day, Spock was brought to a small temple. As he and his father entered the immaculately kept hall, they quite quickly became aware of the others waiting within said hall. A young Vulcan girl and a few other stiffly postured adults could be seen in the near distance. Spock observed them and reasonably assumed that the adult male and female standing beside the girl were her parents, the others he presumed would be assisting in whatever was to take place here. As both Spock and the girl were too young and did not yet possess the telepathic abilities to form any kind of bond alone, a healer was present to lend guidance and assistance with placing the irresolute bond. As they grew closer to them, Sarek greeted the family raising his hand into the ta'al and nodding simply. Spock quickly followed suit as they reciprocated the gesture. The adults conversed plainly about the procedure, and as they did, Spock regarded the girl they had introduced as T'Pring. He analyzed her outward appearance and assumed she was likely to to be considered as attractive by Vulcan standards as she reached adult age. He likewise gathered that they couldn't be completely incompatible. But upon becoming acquainted with her, he could not help the inherent lack of interest he felt towards her. Spock then considered refusing the bond, but quite abruptly, his possible reservations were demolished by insecurity and repressed anger. He listened in to the conversation that was taking place between his father and T'Pring's and overheard multiple unpleasant and confusing statements. T'Pring's father had just finished not so subtly informing Sarek of his continued distaste and moderately reluctant acceptance of his daughter bonding with "One of regrettable and unfortunate heritage." Spock did and said nothing. If he had done or said anything, he had not been in anyway confident he'd have been able to conceal his embarrassment and discomfort. He had not fully understood what T'Pring's father had meant and was not particularly eager to find out. The bonding proceeded as was planned, and the process was quick and painless, leaving only a slight, bleak presence in the recesses of Spock's mind.

After the loss of Vulcan, his mother and subsequently the majority of the Vulcan population, Spock had noticed the severed bonds left in his mind. The parental bond that had previously linked him to his calm, loving mother had severed harshly as she lost her life, and it had left Spock with a headache and painful grief. He was very slightly surprised with how the dangling, broken bond that had linked him to T'Pring, brought him no grief, or pain. He quickly discovered the newly found emptiness left in that spot of his consciousness was almost a comforting improvement. Although he had been respectfully friendly with her, the bond never did strengthen, deepen nor did it ever feel quite... right. Even weak, arranged bonds are known to be rather painful when broken abruptly, but it did not affect Spock in the slightest.

* * *

As Spock opened his eyes, his brows drew together to form an almost perceivable frown. He noted that he'd been frowning much too often as of late. It was rare that any emotion was displayed visibly upon his face, as he maintained a strictly neutral expression at nearly all times. But he had also been feeling, not particularly by choice as well, much more, and increasingly powerfully. T'h'yla, the word rang through his mind once again, his aggressively pointed brows furrowing further. He continued to attempt to understand the conclusion he found himself nearly refusing to come to. 'It cannot be. Bonds that could be considered T'h'yla are astronomically rare. To think that I would hold such a link, and with the Captain no less... Is ridiculous and illogical.' He spoke only in his mind, to his own consciousness, incredulously protesting his own discovery. He perplexed further as his own traitorous mind sharply retorted, 'But it must be, it is the only rational conclusion based on all the evidence.' He tried then, to disregard his logic, but in turn was merely more confounded by his actions.

The strict ruling over emotions with logic was what kept Vulcan's war-like brutality at bay. Or so they were taught at least. Spock found himself cursing his mixed heritage for the third time in the past year, inwardly and irrationally finding fault in his human DNA for his recent struggle with control. He angled his head to the left to look at Jim's unconscious form. He felt an odd pull in his side and decided to return to the chair that remained beside the biobed. The half-Vulcan felt the raging storm that was housed inside his mind begin to subtly abate. He concluded, somewhat begrudgingly, that it was due to his now close proximity to the Captain. Spock found himself very conflicted. It seemed so incredibly illogical to him, it had to be irrevocably irrational and ludicrous. And yet at the same time, it all made a sick sort of sense as well. He returned his thoughts to the previous night when he had 'in restless delirium' chosen to reach out and tentatively grasp Jim's hand, in a way that was similar to what his mother would do as a gesture of comfort and compassion. He could recall with nearly perfect clarity, despite his exhaustion, what had occurred when his fingered ghosted on then settled atop Jim's. Vulcan's were touch telepaths and their hands were exceptionally sensitive. The touching of fingertips was considered quite intimate, yet still appropriate, but still usually kept between bonded pairs. Vulcan's commonly avoided touching hands to limit unwarranted transference of emotions or thoughts, so Spock struggled with determining his own reasoning for purposefully touching Jim's. He usually recoiled inwardly at the slightest accidental touch, especially from humans, due to their innate lack of any kind of mental walls, their emotions flowed uncontrollably through even the shortest skin contact. He attempted again to place the blame with his recent sleep deprivation. Spock sat back in the sterile chair stiffly, pondering silently over his earlier realization, attempting to reason with himself. He finally came to the conclusion that he was emotionally compromised and thus his judgment was equally as compromised. The sheer thought of the possibility of having found a life-long companion in Jim was too overwhelming to process or accept at this point in time. Spock decided to cease thinking of the matter, at least until Jim had woken up. He let out a small puff of a frustrated sigh as he closed his eyes yet again. His mind treacherously wandered back to the feeling of Jim's somewhat cold fingers beneath his own. One of Spock's brows dropped slightly remembering the few and far between times that Jim had touched him before, his hands had seared heat at the lightest touch even through clothing. It was odd that Jim's hands had been so cold the previous day. He surmised that it was most likely due to extended disuse and reduced blood flow. Spock's deep amber eyes flicked down to the Captain's exposed hands that rested atop the sterile white med-bay blankets. His pointed brows lifted slightly as it occurred to him that he should perhaps endeavour to place the Captain's hands beneath the top blanket to aid in heat conservation. He calculated a 4.17% possible increase in recovery time with the strain of body temperature regulation lessened slightly. Another curious thought crossed his mind, 'It would also be logical to observe, in a similar action, whether or not the previous phenomenon would reoccur.' It was indeed most logical to test whether or not his "inexplicable" experience would return with repeated circumstance.

Spock decided that the venture had merit in multiple ways, and leaned forward delicately before he methodically lifted his right hand and slowly reached toward the oddly pale fingers that belonged to Jim. Right as he was a solitary centimetre from touching him, he hesitated. He questioned what it might possibly mean for him if the phenomenon truly did reoccur. He pushed away such thoughts, attempting to steel himself with a scientific outlook on the matter. The half-Vulcan proceeded to reach his long fingers languidly forward, moving slowly with purpose. He fought the determined shaking that plagued his hands. The closer he got, he felt an almost magnetic pull, which he noted as being scientifically improbable due to the lack of static energy in the nearly stale air of the med-bay. His fingers once again found themselves merely a centimetre away, and this time he managed to conquer his shaking and hesitation. Spock closed the gap between their unusually equally pale hands, and as they connected, the feeling that rushed through him caused the tiniest hairs on the back of his neck to rise to attention. An impossibly warm electric pulse shot through him from his fingertips, and again he was entirely overwhelmed by what he felt as his hand connected with Kirk's. The new, yet now slightly familiar feeling of being nearly whole for the first time in his life, accompanied by a soft golden light and feelings of intense peace and contentment like he had never experienced before. All these raw emotions flooded through and overpowered Spock. He could not comprehend where such things could be coming from, astonishingly intense emotional projections originating from not only a psi-null but one who was completely comatose with low brain activity, seemed very unlikely. It didn't make sense, well perhaps it did make sense, just not in any way that he wanted to accept at the moment. Spock indulged, allowing himself to simply enjoy the feeling for a few, too short minutes. He pulled his mind out of the near-trance it had entered and completed his task of placing the Captains hand beneath the top blanket before proceeding to do the same with the other. As he delicately reached over and grasped Kirk's other hand he couldn't help the small curl of the corners of his lips, the closest thing to a smile from the controlled half-Vulcan that no one would see. The feeling continued to wash over him as he placed Kirk's left hand beneath the adequately soft fabric. He found himself oddly reluctant to remove his hand from Jim's, and Spock recalled that McCoy would not return for approximately 104 minutes and decided to grant himself merely 5 to bask in and enjoy what he was experiencing.

5 minutes passed painfully quickly and Spock adhered to the timetable he'd set out for himself and withdrew his hand from beneath the blanket. He felt a cold empty feeling at the lack of contact but reminded himself it was not very appropriate to be touching his commanding officer while he was still very much unconscious. His mind began to race yet again, thoughts of t'h'yla and the implications involved flooding his consciousness. The half-Vulcan attempted to push away such thoughts but was struggling to do so. He decided to attempt to meditate and centre his mind once again. Spock stood and moved away from the sterile chair he'd spent so much time in recently, then lowering himself gracefully onto his meditation mat. He crossed his legs and slowly closed his eyes as he took in a controlled breath. He was satisfied that he managed to calm his mind well enough to enter his mental landscape. He then took the time to continue sorting through the newly disorganized mess that was his usually tranquil and methodically categorized mental space.

* * *

Bones still had half an hour before he had to return to the med-bay to check up on Jim and the hobgoblin. He had been lying in bed with a dozen PADDs scattered around him as he tossed and turned, wanting to rest but finding himself perpetually unable to do so without the help of his favourite golden-brown liquor as of late. His communicator beeped and he sighed tiredly as he looked at the message that came through. His scowl lessened ever so slightly as he saw who had sent it. Carol Marcus had remained on the ship while the Enterprise had been docked on Earth. Much of the crew had remained, waiting for the Captain's transfer to the closest planet-side Starfleet medical facility. Once Carol's leg had healed, she spent her time in engineering, puttering about while ensuring she was not under-foot. Bones hadn't even thought of her since Jim's revival, but thinking about her now added another layer of worry. She had, only a week or so ago, learned that her father was not at all the honourable man she thought he was, and then he had been gruesomely killed in front of her very eyes, not to mention the painful breaking of her lower right leg. And all of which happened within a single day to top it all off. The past week and a bit had been exceedingly hard for the entire crew of the USS Enterprise, especially the senior officers. But it had been nearly forgotten just how hard this week must have been for Carol. The message she sent doctor McCoy was a simple inquiry of the Captain's well being, and the doctor had replied just as simply informing her of Jim's seemingly stable condition. Bones threw the communicator back on the bed and let his head fall back onto his pillow, as he tried to get the deep creases on his face to lessen and relax. He nearly winced as he heard his communicator sound yet again. He hoped to high heaven that it wasn't an alert or emergency. To his surprise and slight flip of his tired heart, it was a reply from Carol. She was now inquiring about… his well being. Was she concerned about him? The doctor's face gained a very light speckling of red flush at the thought. Bones shook his head slightly as he replied with a short and simple "I'll live." He rolled his eyes at himself and rolled over. Another beep from the device and he nearly choked as he read the unexpected reply from Marcus. "Well, if you're still kicking around 1000, would you care to join me for a drink?" Bones' mind fumbled with the concept of getting a drink with Carol Marcus, even if it was still aboard the ship and in the current circumstances. He tried to recall the times of his med-bay duties and found that he was indeed free at the time she mentioned. He replied to her feeling slightly awkward as he let out a gruff cough. "Sounds good to me." He wanted to smack himself for his sadly missing southern charm at the moment and also kicked himself for getting so damn worked up over this. He tried to convince himself that it was only friendly drinks during a hard time for everyone, just friendly comfort, which it likely was. He rolled over yet again and noticed the time, he was due back in the med-bay in only 2 minutes now. He groaned as he got up and tried to straighten himself out for duty, his uniform wrinkled and his hair still a mess. He shoved his communicator in his pocket and ventured out, to face the ship and his med-bay for the coming hours.

A/N: Okay, I keep struggling with editing these myself without a beta, and I'm continually never satisfied with these chapters, but I just end up running out of steam and posting them hoping for the best. This chapter kinda gotta away from me, the whole section with young Spock ended up being much longer than anticipated, and though quite a bit more was supposed to happen in this chapter it kinda came to its own natural end. I REALLY started to struggle a bit with the Vulcan dialogue and I hope it turned out acceptable. Also side-note what do you folks think of the little Bones tidbit? Planning on adding more there in coming chapters. More angsty Spock and wonderfully sly Spock Prime to come in the next chapter as well.

As always, reviews, comments thoughts etc. are SUPER DUPER VERY MUCH SO appreciated, they give me the motivation to keep going. Also please do let me know if there are any mistakes, or if you think the Vulcan areas could use more work, and I'll do my best to fix em.

VULCAN TRANSLATIONS - Sa-mekh: Father

Sa-fu: Son

Ta'al: Another word for the Vulcan Salute, used in one of the novelizations I believe


	5. Awakenings

Five days had passed by in the blink of an eye while still managing somehow to progress at a sluggish crawl. It did not help that the days had been mostly uneventful, in fact, the most exciting thing to have happened was Bones' "date" with Carol Marcus. McCoy began sending scathing glares at anyone brave enough to ask him how it went. But anyone who truly knew the doctor, such as Jim, would have noticed the newfound pep in his step, as well as the little twinkle that occasionally found itself in his usually grumpy eyes.

Spock remained off-duty, even after they finally moved the Captain from the damaged and in need of repair USS Enterprise, to the nearest Starfleet medical facility. Quite unsurprisingly McCoy had grumbled and yelled at nearly every officer involved with Kirk's transfer, it was purely out of necessity, to ensure that absolutely nothing went wrong during transit. Spock was doing the same thing, but in his own undetected way. As was becoming the norm, he stayed close enough to keep his watchful eyes trained on his Captain, while still remaining conveniently out of the way throughout the whole affair. Bones was truly beginning to become worried about Spock's behaviour and decided to increase his half-serious, half-concerned nagging. The half-Vulcan's behaviour, now being firmly categorized as 'moping' by the doctor, was truly just making him uncomfortable, as he was in no way used to such from the Enterprise's pointy-eared first officer.

* * *

It was approaching the fourteenth day, and three since they had transferred the Captain planet-side. The majority of the Enterprise's crew had departed from the ship to recuperate and also to make room for the Starfleet technicians that were tasked with working with Scotty to assess the immense damage that the ship had been dealt during the previous incident. Within the first five minutes of the diagnostics, and much before that, if they'd have asked Scotty, it was blaringly obvious that the repairs and refits required were incredibly extensive. As was his nature, Scotty wanted to get started on the repairs himself immediately, but at the behest and subsequent order of Admiral Komack and Doctor McCoy, he had conceded to take a break and rest for at least a couple days. That undoubtedly hadn't stopped the Scotsman from yelling and swearing at the officers that arrived to relieve him from duty. He also yelled at Keenser something along the lines of "Can ye believe this? Kicked out of me own damn deck!" Keenser just blinked at him, shook his head and followed him out when he finally left. The engineer wouldn't admit it, but he was actually quite relieved to have been forced from his post, and away from the 'damned' reactor he'd witnessed Kirk die in. He followed the simple directions he'd been given and found himself at the Starfleet apartment he'd been provided with quickly and proceeded to collapse onto the stiff federation issue bed in his complete exhaustion.

When they had taken Jim from the Enterprise to the nearest planet-side med-facility, Spock had exercised more control than he thought he possessed at the time, to prevent himself from flat-out growling at the unknown officers handling Jim and his transfer. Doctor McCoy's yelling proved to only increase his anxiety, but he did succeed in maintaining a mask of neutral poise. Along with all other Enterprise officers, Spock had been assigned a temporary apartment, which he had yet to visit as he persisted in his refusal to leave Jim for any extended period of time.

The half-Vulcan had spent much of the morning attending to the multitude of reports and 'paperwork' that had quickly piled up in his and the Captain's absence from duty. After he completed a satisfactory percentage of the reports, he attempted to meditate following the arrival of an ensign who nervously brought him some of the belongings he'd left in the ships med-bay during the departure of the majority of the crew. Spock had given the man a short nod in gratitude, as the return of his meditation mat was quite welcome. He sat down with his usual grace, despite his persisting hidden weariness, cross-legged on the earth-toned mat. He focused on his breathing and slowed it to a controlled and relaxed pace as he slipped seamlessly into his own mind. His mental landscape was beginning to seem like slightly less of a wrecked mess, due to his constant meditation and efforts in organizing the turmoil. Spock simply did as he had been the past days, and continued to coordinate his mind. A few hours into meditation, he had heard the somewhat unwelcome sound of his communicator, which pulled him out of his relaxed state. He retrieved it from his pocket to ascertain who was contacting him and was quite surprised to see that it was his older counterpart. He accepted the call and the deep wizened baritone of his older self's voice came through the device.

" , I only just received news of the Captains incapacitation, might I inquire as to what happened?" the elder spoke evenly but Spock recognized the deep concern beneath. He closed his eyes and took in a steadying breath as he relayed to his older self, the story of what had happened.

"During Khan's seizure of the Vengeance, he gravely damaged the Enterprise and incapacitated the warp drive. Ji... Captain Kirk, entered the reactor to realign it. In doing so, he succeeded in saving the ship and its crew, but he himself… did not survive the events." Spock's older counterpart inhaled sharply but quietly, as he let out a soft pained sigh. One of the younger Vulcan's eyebrows raised slightly as he questioned, "Did this also occur in your past?" Spock Prime paused before replying to his younger self. Spock could hear the pain easily, as it was only thinly veiled as he spoke.

"Yes, and no. As I told you before, we did encounter Khan multiple times, and we too defeated him at great cost. But it was I that perished in the reactor, not Jim." Spock's pointed brows shot up into his fringe before the older Vulcan continued speaking. "As is quite obvious, I am alive. My Katra had placed itself with Leonard McCoy due to his close proximity, and through complicated means, my body was regenerated and Katra returned to it by a healer on Vulcan. I am going to assume that Jim did was not revived in the same manner." The ambassador spoke with regretful recollection but allowed slight humour to surface at the end of his statement.

Spock was slightly surprised that any version of himself could find humour in the situation, but answered and explained anyways. "The doctor synthesized a serum from Khan's platelets that successfully revived the Captain. He has been comatose for thirteen days, eighteen hours and twenty-two minutes. Doctor McCoy has hypothesized that he should awaken within the next two to three days." Spock attempted to hide the desperation he was feeling at Jim's continued lack of consciousness.

There was a pause before any response, and when the ambassador finally spoke, he voiced his inquiry with a slightly softer tone than before, "How are you feeling?"

"I am... fine. I am uninjured." Spock replied keeping it short and stiff.

"Fine has variable meanings and is, therefore, an inadequate descriptor. And I was not referring to your physical state of health, as I am sure you are aware." The older Vulcan retorted in an almost scolding manner. Spock found himself feeling similarly to how he would when his mother would scold him, in her rather human and caring way.

"I am... emotionally compromised. I lost all control the moment I witnessed the Captain's life.. end. I… Shed tears, and nearly beat to death. I would have unquestionably completed my task as well if it were not for Lieutenant Uhura intervention to inform me of Doctor McCoy's plan to revive Kirk." The young half-Vulcan answered truthfully, allowing himself to relax slightly and his eyes to slide shut as he recounted the previous events. "Do you have any clarification you could provide towards my actions?"

"I do not know what conclusions you have come to as of yet, but with the knowledge I have of my own complex relationship with the James Kirk of my own time, I find your actions to have been completely justifiable. There are explanations that I could provide you with, but I will not. As I have mentioned prior, I believe it will be necessary for you and your… Captain to forge your own path together. I especially do not wish to confuse you further with inconsequential knowledge of another life, another reality." The elder Spock spoke with an easy wisdom, despite his inner wish to impart the truth and depth of his relationship with his own Captain to his confused younger self.

Spock's brows furrowed ever so slightly at the older man's response, as he looked over to Jim. An unwelcome realization dawned upon him, _'Even if I were to accept the conclusions I have reached recently, there is absolutely no guarantee that Jim will reciprocate any feelings I may_ have _and no simple way to ascertain whether or not he would accept the rather… long-term implications of such.'_ He felt an unpleasant twisting feeling of insecurity take root in his side, which he tried to untangle and remove, rather unsuccessfully. He endeavoured to choose his words even more carefully than usual before he replied again to his older counterpart. "Whatever path I choose to pursue, there is a considerable possibility that the Captain will not wish for the same."

Just then, Spock was sure he heard something like a puff of laughter come from the ambassador, he attempted to disregard it because, surely, his older self would not laugh at his sincere concern. "Although I cannot predict the future due to the drastic alteration to this timeline by Nero, it is my genuine belief that there will always be a unique connection and bond between the two of you, in any reality."

They talked for a few more minutes, the elder informed him of the current status of New Vulcan and attempted to distract the younger man for at least a short while. He described the climate of their new homeworld, creating pictures with his words of how the sun shone and reflected off the sand, he then ventured to update Spock on the progression of the surviving Vulcan population that inhabited the colony. Many were struggling with the loss of Vulcan, and so many of their species, though it was not outwardly obvious to onlookers. The remaining healers were kept increasingly busy as much of the inhabitants of the colony required assistance to cope with the multitude of abruptly severed bonds.

* * *

They disconnected their communication soon after, leaving Spock to ponder over all that had been said. One thing in particular that the ambassador had mentioned continued to elude him. Despite the older Vulcan having referred to his own life and relationship with his reality's Jim Kirk as 'inconsequential', it had done nothing to deter Spock's now growing curiosity. _'Had he been.. involved with his Captain? If so, in what way? As the ambassador previously noted on multiple occasions, they were close friends, but the manner in which he has spoken of his Jim leads me to believe their relationship was more than simply friendship._ ' A mass of questions raced through his mind, returning to that particular lesson from his father for a moment. He remembered again the mention of ancient Vulcans believing that t'h'yla bonds were created by fate or destiny. Concepts such as fate or destiny were improbable, but consequently, the probability of a pair of people in multiple realities finding themselves together and cultivating similar connections was seemingly quite low. Though there was little legitimate data to make any accurate conclusions on the subject.

Spock made a mental note to inquire in more depth, of the nature of the ambassador's relationship with his Captain. He inwardly scolded himself as such queries were not strictly logical or necessary, but he could not seem to quell his curiosities. As he could not get the answers he wished at the moment, he decided to return to his earlier meditation. He resumed his cross-legged position sitting on his mat, and began to centre his mind and regulate his breathing. In and out, in and out…

He heard a gentle but abrupt knock at the door and felt an eyebrow quirk curiously. There were but few people who would knock, instead of pressing and ringing the computer bell. "Enter." Spock called out quietly as the door slid open revealing a familiar but worse for wear Scotsman.

"Ah, I should'a known ye'd still be here laddie. How's our Captain?" Scotty nervously asked, he'd finally gotten some decent sleep with the time away from constantly working but the dark rings around his eyes and the tired look was still there.

"He remains comatose but stable. Doctor McCoy would be able to provide a full report on the Captain's current state." The half-Vulcan responded concisely and quickly stood, picking up and folding his mat in an organized fashion. He wondered, if the engineer was not aware of his presence in the room, why would he not utilize the computer to gain access to the room immediately instead of expecting someone within to permit entrance. Although Spock could not always comprehend the strange complexities of human behaviour, he assumed Scotty had knocked in the hope that Jim himself would have opened the door.

The Scotsman frowned and looked down for a moment before speaking, "So he hasn't woken up yet has he?"

"No, he has not." Spock replied, keeping his graceful poise in place. Scotty let out a sigh and leaned on the wall before walking over to one of the chairs on the opposite side of the Captain's biobed. He sunk into the unused chair and scratched his head a bit, looking at Jim's unconscious and ever so slightly gaunt face. The Scot's heart twisted a little as he felt his guilt resurface, remembering the scene of the demise of the man in front of him, the man that had become something of a friend to him.

"I cannae imagine how yer feeling, but I know he'll be up and about soon, I'm sure of it." Scotty glanced at Spock for a second before becoming silent again.

"At this time, all we can do is wait." Spock spoke as his eyes travelled subtly to Jim's face before he resumed looking at a single spot on the sterile white wall behind Scotty. They sat in mild silence for a few minutes before the Scot stood and gave Spock a half-hearted tired smile and nod as he left the room.

Once again, Spock decided to return to his meditations. He sincerely hoped to receive no further disruptions, but disruption quickly came in the form of one Doctor Leonard McCoy. The doctor inputted his code and entered the room unannounced, as he usually did. As attending physician to the Captain, it was not only his right but his duty to be there, whenever he pleased. It had seemed Bones chose to take his shift in the evening for the sake of resting prior to said shift, but he looked more tired then ever, shoulders hunched and face slid into its seemingly natural displeased state. He nearly glared at Spock as he walked in, and the Vulcan could just barely decipher with his enhanced hearing what exactly the doctor was grumbling about under his breath. Something, something 'damn hobgoblin' was the main theme.

"Y'know, as a doctor I'm starting to get concerned about ya Spock, you've been stuck to him like glue since the… incident. I'm surprised you weren't damn relieved to be rid of this idiot honestly." McCoy spoke with an exhausted sort of grate in his voice, letting out a humourless chuckle. And at the end of his tired statement, he received the coldest of subtle Vulcan glares from Spock.

"I assure you, doctor, despite our past differences, I would not wish for the Captain's demise in any circumstance." Spock bit out the words, holding his tongue from fully revealing the extent of how distasteful and truly inaccurate he found the doctors comment to be. There was a long and tense pause before McCoy replied.

"Yeah I know, sorry Spock, I'm just worried about the kid. I was hoping he'd have woken up by now." Bones let out a long and exasperated sigh, as he pinched his nose bridge and looked in any direction but Spock and Jim.

"I too had anticipated that the Captain would regain consciousness in less time than has elapsed." The half-Vulcan's tone softened slightly, and McCoy looked back at him.

"Why is it that you've stayed beside him this whole time, seriously? Didn't peg you for the whole 'bedside vigil' type, especially not for Jimbo here." the doctor questioned while throwing his thumb back in the general direction of Jim's unconscious form. Spock simply stared at McCoy for a moment, contemplating some kind of acceptable response.

"It is because, as First Officer, it is my duty to oversee and ensure the Captain's expeditious return to health and duty upon the Enterprise." A small part of Spock was somewhat surprised with his response, calmly scolding that Vulcans do not lie. But he quelled that part of himself with the explanation that it was not logical or necessary to provide the doctor with the truly inconclusive and more complicated answer. If he himself did not fully understand the situation, there was no need to inform others of such.

McCoy snorted a bit in laughter before shaking his head and responding, "Uh huh, sure thing pointy, we'll go with that." The doctor busied himself with his routine checks, and he made a point to assess Jim's brain activity, as usual, trying to see if the anomaly of REM activity would occur again. When he found no such readings, he then attempted to continue to become more acquainted with the Starfleet medical suite that Jim had been placed in. All the equipment was in slightly different places, everything much closer to regulations than he was used to after growing accustomed to tweaking things to his own personal liking. In his exhausted and stress-ridden state, the layout was completely irking Bones. Perhaps it was also the stress and the lack of decent sleep and not lack of personal hygiene, that was causing his impending beard to begin to feel unpleasantly itchy. Bones completed his tasks and was quite happy to return to his Starfleet assigned apartment to replicate something reasonable to eat before passing out for the night. He was pretty pissed off when they'd first informed him of the shift changes that applied to him, and how now he was only supposed to do a single daily medical evaluation on Jim, instead of keeping constantly rotating shifts of watching and keeping an eye on him as he had been doing on the ship. He felt as if Jim's care was being taken from him and if anything happened while he was absent, he didn't know what he'd do. But after that first night of nearly undisturbed sleep, he was beginning to see the benefits of the new schedule. McCoy was sleeping slightly better than he had on the Enterprise but the anxiety and fear of some nurse overlooking something fatal, or accidentally giving Jim something he was allergic to, or any possible event that could occur due to the absence of his incredibly in-depth knowledge of Jim Kirk's medical history still prevented him from being completely relaxed. So when Bones got back to the apartment, he did exactly as he had planned and replicated some bourbon and a passable sandwich, and collapsed into bed with a deep sigh.

* * *

Spock was quite pleased that there were no further interruptions following the doctor's departure. He resumed his meditation and spent the remainder of the evening in a calm, neutral state. After a quick visit from a nurse on the night shift, he knew he would have the rest of the night to himself to meditate and possibly attempt to sleep. He still held a semblance of hope that Jim would regain consciousness within the next forty-eight hours, so he wished to be adequately rested and in perfectly functional condition for duty, should it be required of him. He took up his place in the chair that was on the left side of the biobed and looked at Jim. He found himself noticing the presence of blonde stubble gracing his face, he also noticed just how long and surprisingly golden, Jim's eyelashes were. The dark haired man found himself in tired awe of the beauty the blonde man in front of him possessed, and of how he'd managed to never have recognized it before. He found himself mesmerized and becoming increasingly in need of rest. He leaned forward slightly and rested his hand on the edge of the firm biobed mattress, letting the majority of his weight be supported by the arm of the chair nearest to the bed. Within only five minutes Spock drifted into a relaxed meditative sleep.

Spock awoke, not in a Starfleet medical facility, but in the familiar dark expanse of his mental landscape. He was dreaming. He looked around in the clear, well-organized space, finding darkness yet again culminating around his carefully categorized memories and thoughts. The darkness was not imposing, not infringing on his space, nor was it exactly pleasant, but it was tolerable. He let out a sigh, a soft sound that travelled and bounced off the invisible 'walls' of his mind. He ventured about, leisurely exploring the space, observing the crisp clear memories that drifted past. He began to feel a pull, Something he'd felt once before, he realized he'd felt the same pull the last time he'd mysteriously found himself dreaming. Though he could not recall the majority of the last dream he'd had after awakening, he found himself able to remember more in his unconscious dream state. He decided it was most logical to follow the pull he felt for the sake of discovering the source. The longer he did, he felt an intensely pleasant warmth begin to wash over him, he also felt a pulse, like the bass of a drum, the beat of a heart. It was not identical to his own rhythm, the rhythm of a Vulcan heart, it was different but just as tenacious. He continued forward, towards the warmth and the tempo that passed through his body, as he did he noticed that same golden light he'd seen before. The closer he got he could see the links that bound it to its place. It was deeply rooted in his mind, but its seemingly new existence was so harmonious and just… right, it was as if it had always been there. He was nearly close enough to reach out and touch it, the warmth overwhelmed him fully, his body almost vibrating with the reverberation of the enduring pulse. He then heard something, he felt himself smile as he thought it reminded him of the beautiful lilt of his mother's voice, but it was not his mother, the sound was deeper, fuller, but just as warm and loving. Spock drew nearer to the voice, and he was finally able to discern what it was saying, and he recognized the voice as well.

 _'Spock?'_ Jim's voice rang out, like a pleasantly warm breeze on a clear night on Vulcan. Spock tried to determine if he were recalling sound from an existing memory or if it was something else entirely. He heard it again, slightly desperate this time, _'Spock!'_

 _'Jim?'_ unable to fully control his thoughts and replace Jim with proper rank in the raw state of his open mind, he felt a gentle push towards him.

' _Spock, where am I, where are **we**?' _Spock felt no fear from Jim, just placid curiosity.

 _'We are in my mind, you are... in a coma.'_ Spock pushed his response softly towards the warm light. He began to feel confusion take shape and he felt the warmth begin to retract and draw away.

 _'Spock!'_ he heard his name once again, as darkness started to encroach on his vision, pulling him away from the last bit of pleasant warmth. The golden light slipped from his fingers yet again, tendrils gently caressing before falling away.

* * *

"Spock!" McCoy's voice filled the room and Spock opened his eyes, finding himself immediately alert. "Dammit man, I was starting to worry for a second there." Leonard sent a half-hearted glare in the Vulcan's direction as he walked over to the computer station to pour over the previous night's readings.

"To what exactly are you referring doctor?" Spock gathered his bearings easily, straightening himself out subtly.

"I've been in here for five minutes, it was weird enough that you didn't wake up the second I walked in." McCoy had a slightly perplexed scowl on his face. Spock's brows furrowed together ever so slightly as he was quite bewildered by the fact he'd been sleeping so deeply and for a second time within two weeks had entered a REM state, and dreamt. He also realized that he had slept for nearly eight hours, as it was now approaching 0800 according to the chronometer and the doctor was there for his single shift of the day. As was the case with the previous dream, he could not recall the majority of it clearly, but could still hear Jim's voice and feel the pleasurable warmth that was now just out of reach. He presumed it was possible the voice he had heard was doctor McCoy attempting to rouse him from sleep, but he was quite certain it was the distinct voice of his Captain.

Bones checked over Jim's vitals, the readings were normal, as they had been for the last fourteen days. He looked over at his friend and the half-Vulcan that was now puttering about, tidying the few things he had in the room and retrieving his dataPADD to finish catching up on his and the Captain's reports. McCoy checked Jim's brain activity from the last twenty-four hours and was quite surprised to find the same anomaly that had occurred five days ago. Jim had again inexplicably slipped into a REM state and had been dreaming, his brain activity had increased exponentially in the past five hours alone, and was still much higher than it had been for the last two weeks. Bones looked up at Jim, and stepped out from behind the view-screen, to walk towards the unconscious form. He reached the edge of the biobed and he could see Kirk was breathing much easier, with his chest more obviously rising and falling. It was beginning to seem much more like he were sleeping and not comatose. Jim had been off the heavy sedatives that had been keeping him fully comatose for a week and with the spike in brain activity that occurred on the eighth day, they had been hoping that after the serum had safely integrated with his system, he would finally wake up. But his condition had not improved nor changed at all, and he remained unconscious for another week.

 _'Damn it, Jim, get your ass up already!'_ McCoy mentally yelled in exasperation, he wished for nothing more than for his best friend to finally wake up.

Bones continued tiredly staring in Jim's direction before he turned around and returned his attention to the computer behind him. That's when he saw it, all of Kirk's vitals were spiking and his brain activity was all over the place. Jim's arm twitched, then his cheek, he inhaled sharply and deeply through both nostrils, and slowly opened his eyes.

 **A/N - So it's been a while, life kinda threw a wrench in my writing for a little bit there, with my dad being in the hospital and my birthday and work all together making this chapter come together SUPER slowly. I feel like this chapter is a damn mess, and I'm probably going to edit it 800 more times after writing this author's note. Everything that happened in this chapter was technically the other half of chapter 4, but with the length of the last one and how this one obviously ended up even longer, they needed to be split up. Do ya'll prefer these longer chapters?**

 **ALSO, the last chapter only got one review/ comment. Was it bad or too uneventful to comment on? WHAT DID I DO WRONG? :'(**

 **In any case, please do leave reviews, comments and corrections, they really do fuel my writing. They encourage me to keep this story going because I really do have a lot more planned for it.**

 **THANKS TO ANYONE WHO READS THIS, YOU ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED**


	6. Just Breathe

Spock spun around and immediately halted his tidying the moment he heard the loud alerts sounding off from the nearby medical equipment. His heart froze for a moment and he saw McCoy silence the alerts with wide eyes, and whip out his tricorder. "Holy shit!" Bones swore and quickly composed himself in his usual 'doctor-ly' manner.

"Doctor McCoy, what is the Captain's status?" Spock's mind was racing in fear and worry that something had gone wrong, and he attempted to remain as composed and calm as possible. The doctor turned to look at the half-Vulcan who was now standing at attention posture almost painfully stiff near the door to the room.

"Well, if I'm reading this right, which I am, I think our friend here's about to wake up." Spock's brows shot into his straight fringe before he quickly relaxed internally in intense relief. That relief was quickly joined by an anxious expectancy, the moment he'd been silently and desperately waiting for throughout the previous two weeks, was finally upon him. The half-Vulcan suddenly found himself irrationally nervous, and quite grateful that he had remained in uniform after the Captain's transfer to the smaller medical suite. He stayed thoroughly planted in place as McCoy turned to the bio-bed. Spock closely examined Jim from where he was, observing with concern the twitch of Jim's arm, the slight movement of his cheek, and the just as subtle dip of his brows. Just then, as his Captain sharply inhaled, he realized he'd been holding his breath. It was a single moment later that Jim's eyes fluttered open, revealing the oceanic blue colour that Spock only now realized he had missed dearly. McCoy ran his tricorder over Jim's face, that now held slight confusion as his eyes darted around. "Oh don't be so melodramatic, you were barely dead." Bones smirked as he spoke, trying to hide his heavy relief as he continued. "It was the transfusion that really took its toll. You were out cold for two weeks."

"Transfusion?" Jim rolled his head to the left a bit to look at his friend, with groggy confusion knitting his brows together.

"Your cells were heavily irradiated. We had no choice." The doctor relayed his reasoning to Jim still scanning over him, checking vitals and everything else that could be checked.

"Khan?" the Captain continued to watch Bones as he assumed and inquired. Spock remained out of Jim's line of sight and behind the doctor while organizing his thoughts, subtly breathing in calming meditative patterns.

"Once we caught him, I synthesized a serum from his 'super blood'. Tell me, are you feeling uh, homicidal? Power mad? Despotic?" Leonard smirked as he looked expectantly at his best friend.

"No more than usual. How'd you catch him?" Jim smirked back, before the questioning look on his face returned.

"I didn't." McCoy simply answered as he turned to walk to the other side of the bio-bed, revealing a tightly wound and almost visibly on edge Vulcan. Spock approached Jim's side at a perfectly sensible pace. He reached his destination directly beside, but appropriately distanced from his Captain's biobed. Their eyes met and the corners of Jim's lips pulled upwards, and he smiled his deadly smile at the half-Vulcan commander. Spock felt his heart nearly jump in his side but ignored it, forcing himself to focus.

"You saved my life." James continued to speak reasonably quietly in his tired state, and he kept his eyes on his first officer as Bones chimed in.

"Uhura and I had something to do with it too, ya know." Jim's eyes diverted to his best friend for only a second as one cheeky eyebrow rose, before looking back to the responding Vulcan.

"You saved my life Captain. And the lives of.." Spock began but was quickly interrupted by said Captain.

"Spock, just…" Jim closed his eyes and swallowed, not knowing exactly what to say, or how he felt about the whole matter. Being dead was overwhelming. But he settled on something simple, "Thank you."

The deep yet light blue eyes twinkled and Spock did not before realize the true depth of the hue of Jim's eyes, nor their capability of relaying and causing such intense emotion. "You are welcome, Jim." The ghost of a smile graced the Vulcan's face, feeling that such were inevitable and reasonably acceptable given the circumstance. The smile Jim had been given, went directly over his already tired and drained head. Bones too had missed it, though if he hadn't, he would have surely gotten in a nice jab about it. Spock's deep brown eyes still hadn't left Jim's blues, the Captain was simply too tired to care about the possible awkwardness, and the commander was too appreciative of the moment to look away.

Shortly after, McCoy ended the moment by addressing Jim. "So kid, how are ya feeling?"

"Honestly Bones? I'm tired." The blonde finally tore his gaze away from his first officer to look at the friend to his left.

"Tired? Are you kidding me? You've been asleep for two weeks and you're tired? Aw hell, sure thing sleeping beauty, go back to sleep why dontcha." McCoy rolled his eyes and continued checking over Jim and all the new readings.

The blonde frowned and grumbled about the sleeping beauty comment, and they bickered for only a couple minutes but did not notice Spock slipping away towards the door. "Spock, you're leaving?" Jim asked somewhat rhetorically, having expected Spock's quick departure. He kept his tone casual and friendly, as was the norm for them for at least the past few months. Bones, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow in quiet curiosity and amusement.

"Indeed. I have duties and reports to attend to." The half-Vulcan spoke evenly and gave a polite nod before exiting the room, allowing for no comments or quips from the doctor. Spock paused momentarily outside the door, taking a steadying breath. He was wildly aware that he would be spending much of the evening in meditation, mulling over the decisions he had ahead of him. He opened his eyes and promptly continued on his way to find the apartment he'd been assigned.

* * *

Spock had left promptly and while nothing seemed amiss to Jim at all, he found himself missing the view and presence of his first officer. The Captain quickly moved on from the mental topic of Spock and turned to his friend who was giving him a smirk and light held back chuckle. "What are you laughing at?" Jim asked, sending a suspicious look McCoy's way.

Bones rolled his eyes then shook his head while shrugging, "I just didn't think the damn hobgoblin would ever un-stick himself from you." He finally let out a laugh and got back to puttering around the medical equipment.

Jim frowned in confusion, "What do you mean?" The look on McCoy's face was continually humorous, the blonde felt as if there were some inside joke he wasn't let in on.

"I mean, pointy was stuck to ya like glue the whole damn time you were out." Leonard rolled his eyes yet again and Jim narrowed his eyes to thin slits as he looked at his best friend and scoffed.

"That's about as believable as Spock on his knees, serenading us, what's next? Did he sing me a ballad Bones? Oh yes, please tell me it was a sad teary ballad. Ah, bitter dregs..." The young Captain sang the last bit with theatrical emotion, then rolled his eyes so hard his head began to hurt. Bones just shrugged before replying.

"Now Jimmy, have ya ever known me to lie to ya?" the doctor smiled a tiny hidden smile to the side realizing how much he'd truly missed his pain in the ass of a best friend. He was ever grateful that he'd been able to revive him, though he would rarely if ever, let Jim know how thankful he really was. Jim seemed to ponder for a moment before his head snapped up to scowl with a little bit of dramatic horror before replying.

"Yes actually, all the time! Specifically, EVERY. TIME. you say _'this won't hurt a bit'!"_ his imitation of his friend was practiced and spot on, as he grimaced some more recounting the never-ending sneak-attack hyposprays.

"Oh come on ya big baby, now lean forward so I can take a blood sample." Bones had an innocent expression on his face, but his eyes held that evil glint in them that Jim had learned to dread.

"What? Why? Can't you just analyze my blood with a tricorder, you know, from the outside? No need to get all invasive, right Bones?" Even in his groggy post-coma state he still managed a valiant attempt at wearing his way out of any more pokes and prods.

"Would if I could kid, but I gotta get your blood under a microscope and make absolutely sure Khan's cells aren't causing any real problems. And hey, _it won't hurt a bit,_ it's just one needle." McCoy replied seriously while holding back an evil smirk and cackle with the last bit.

"It's not the needle bones, it's YOU and your stabbing!" Jim threw his hands up or tried to. His hands only raised less than a foot but showed his surrender either way.

The doctor finished with his required duties quickly and set the blood sample aside for later study. Jim had complained away and Bones pretended to be more annoyed than he was. After the stabbing and blood drawing business was concluded, they talked idly about the current status of the ship and its crew. The blonde faked a teary outburst in response to the news of the possible length of time that his baby, the Enterprise, would be grounded for repairs. Not to mention the two to three days Jim was to be stuck not only in the medical suite but the bio-bed as well. The melodramatic tantrum he'd thrown may have been acting but the news really did depress Jim. He had felt as if he'd only just gotten back out there, in space and on missions, and now he was likely going to be stuck on Earth for up to a year. Two hours flew by and Leonard was soon off-duty, but reluctant to leave his friend.

"Come on Bones, I see you looking at the chronometer." Jim gave him a tired smile, faking a yawn for effect as he continued. "I'm beat, get out of here and relax."

Leonard eyed Jim suspiciously, "Beat? Seriously, you've been in a coma for two weeks, and you're beat? Am I going to have to make 'Sleeping Beauty' a permanent nickname?" the doctor inquired incredulously.

"Oh yeah, all that coma was hard work, I gotta sleep it off." Jim sank into the mattress and let out a theatrical sigh. McCoy rolled his eyes at the shit-eating smirk on Jim's face. The doctor wanted to protest, and stay to get to the bottom of why his friend was so hasty to get rid of him. But in truth, the relief and two-weeks of sleep loss compounded and was now on his heels, catching up to him by the second.

"Alright, alright I'll get out of the way of your beauty rest, princess." Bones rolled his eyes and started to gather his things as his tone turned more serious before continuing. "I'll be back in the morning and let the crew know that you're finally up. There'll be a night nurse periodically checking on you so if you feel sick or anything at all, let someone know immediately. And if for some reason, no one responds, comm. me at home, okay?"

Jim shook his head and let out a light chuckle, "Yes mother, will do." Though it was a little extreme sometimes, he really did appreciate Bones' mother hen-ing. Once McCoy was out the door the blonde let out a real sigh. He hadn't been fully lying when he said he was beat, he was actually quite tired. He adjusted his body slightly to a more comfortable position and relaxed his head back, closing his eyes. His mind travelled back, attempting to recall what happened before his… Death. The gravity of what happened only now began to set in and he started taking shorter and quicker breaths, nearly hyperventilating. The 'fearless' Captain was no stranger to panic attacks. Though with the help of Leonard, going back all the way to their time in the Academy, the frequency and severity had lessened significantly since his younger years. There were many things about James T. Kirk's past that led to him being the man he was now, and who he was before the academy and no one but McCoy and Pike, knew near to the full extent of everything. He grew up with a nearly absentee mother, many unpleasant step-fathers (the worst of which by far being the abusive drunken asshole that was Frank) and then, of course, the time he spent on a certain godforsaken Earth Colony when he was only a young teen.

* * *

The majority of Kirk's files were sealed at the highest clearance, so McCoy was practically the only person left that was aware of at least most of Jim's past. And they had only allowed him access to the full files for three reasons. Leonard was Jim's closest friend and his roommate, and he was also his primary physician. Not to mention his aggravating insistence. Bones had helped Jim through countless panic attacks, night terrors and self-destructive episodes in their first year at the Academy, even before gaining clearance to learn the whole truth and explanation behind it all. Leonard had taken a few classes specifically to better aid Jim when it was needed. And through that, Jim had also picked up a few techniques to help with the episodes on his own.

James attempted to employ his usual breathing exercise, and tried to focus on recalling the events that transpired before… and not on the… death itself. He managed to calm his breathing slightly, uncomfortably remembering the ship falling, the reactor, the feeling of being set on fire from the inside and... Spock. _'Spock was there? He was talking to me… he looked like he was going to cry. Maybe the whole thing was just a crazy hallucination… I told him why I went back for him.. or did I? What did I say?'_

Jim went through the events in his head, trying to distinguish reality from delusion. He tried to remember exactly what had been said if anything, between the two of them. He relaxed slightly as he tried to recall the conversation.

 _"You used what he wanted against him..." Jim managed to get out, continuing to pant. "That's a nice move." He added, he tried, with great difficulty to pull off his trademark smirk, to convey the strange feelings of pride and admiration he felt blooming in his chest. Perhaps it was simply his arteries bursting from radiation exposure, he brushed it off and thought to himself. He noticed that his close half-Vulcan friend was still staring down at him, eyes glassy, red, and never leaving his own. Even then, he couldn't truly tell if the emotion he was seeing in his first officer's face was real, or an illusion._

 _"It is what you would have done." The corner of Spock's lip rose slightly before he replied as his voice wavered._

 _"And this..." Jim's eyes fell for a moment, the mere act of holding Spock's gaze proving a grave challenge, before staring back up at him and continuing quietly, "This is what you would have done. It was only logical." Spock's jaw dropped open only slightly as his eyes panicked. Jim ignored the look on the Vulcan's face, again questioning his vision. He swallowed, feeling like he was swallowing barbed wire, he struggled to breathe, and to find the words, "I'm scared, Spock." Jim spoke as he painfully and sharply inhaled, feeling as if his lungs were now filled with burning acid, "Help me not be." He didn't have it in him to be surprised with himself and what he was saying, in his excruciating delirium it all made sense._

 _Spock's brows furrowed further as warm tears gathered beyond his inner eyelids, that Jim half-remembered Spock telling him about before. The Vulcan's lips and nostrils quivered. All of the movement and expression on his first officers face completely astounded Jim, he again questioned what he was seeing. "How do you choose not to feel?" Jim asked, voice cracking and looking forward, a strained tear falling down his face. The amount of pain he was feeling throughout his entire body quickly becoming nearly too much to bear, any reprieve more than welcome._

 _The Vulcan inhaled lightly as he shook his head and answered, "I do not know..." there was sadness as he spoke, more with every word as he continued, "Right now I am failing." Jim looked back at him confused by the sorrow he felt from his friend, the effort needed to raise his eyes to meet Spock's again was monumental._

 _"I want you to know why I couldn't let you die, why I went back for you." Jim felt a need for urgency as he realized his organs were failing, mind fading with every moment. He spoke as clearly as he could, forcing his aching lungs to function._

 _The tears that had gathered in Spock's deep chocolate eyes finally spilled out and ran down to his shaking jaw as he attempted to finish the statement for him. "Because you are my friend."_

 _Jim's breath hitched as blood leaked into his lungs and tried to make its way up his throat. 'That wasn't exactly what I was going to say, but close enough.' Jim thought to himself, he reckoned he wouldn't have been able to finish his statement anyways. What he'd truly been meaning to say was more along the lines of 'Because I couldn't live without you. The thought of not even having the chance to truly know you, the thought of anyone else in the science officers chair on the bridge, the thought of spending my meals, my evenings with anyone else was too much to even consider.' He raised his hand to the glass utilizing nearly the last of his strength to do so. Spock quickly placed his hand against his captain's, fingers drawn apart in the Vulcan salute. Jim sent a tired glance at their joined yet separated hands, and he tried his utmost, using energy he was not aware he had to arrange his fingers in the same form. Spock's eyes quickly returned to Jim's face, tears continuing to streak his own. Jim's eyes were glossing over as he pained to pull his lips into a smile and look up into those endless dark eyes above him, shadowed with grief. And at that moment everything went black._

* * *

Suddenly Jim realized that he had nearly told Spock how he'd felt. Even now, Jim didn't know exactly how he felt or what he wanted. He realized as he was dying, at that moment, many things had occurred to him in 'life flashes before your eyes' fashion. He realized that he would have never had the chance to truly love someone, to truly let someone in as well. His heart dropped remembering what he thought was the sight his first officer shedding tears in front of him, for him. He still didn't fully trust his mind and memory, thoroughly doubting what he saw and experienced. He realized that he had wanted it to be that person in front of him, his half-Vulcan first officer, to truly know him, to love him. He had gotten more than used to brushing off and ignoring the magnetic physical and mental attraction to Spock that he felt. He had convinced himself that it was nothing more than an appreciation for his incredible intellect, physique and unique half-Vulcan heritage. But at that moment in the reactor, he felt that it was more than that, that he had always felt a deep connection to the man in front of him. Despite their rocky meeting, he had been drawn to him from the moment he first saw him. He had thought to himself while feeling that excruciating burning pain, that it was perhaps Spock and only Spock that he wanted to face the universe and its dangers and adventures with. And he realized that he'd never even get the opportunity to try and figure out what he wanted, let alone what Spock himself thought of the matter. Dozens of possibilities and moments of a life he hadn't yet lived, moments with Spock, that he would never get to live, flashed through his mind. It was those vivid moments that drove him to urgently wish to let his first officer in on the epiphany's he was having.

Spock having had stated without prompt that they were friends, even as Jim was dying, was an achievement in itself. _'How am I supposed to expect anything more than that?'_ Jim shook his head and groaned audibly remembering what he had almost said, what he had truly wanted to say. Then a thought occurred to him, what if he had let more slip than he remembered? He was out of it, in agony, so who's to say that Jim's memory of the event was fully intact. _'Maybe that's why Spock was out of here so quickly after I woke up… I still don't trust what Bones said about him being here the whole time I was out. Fuck I don't know…'_ Jim thought to himself and he tossed and turned slightly in the bed getting frustrated with himself, he didn't even really know how he felt about all of it. Not only did he not trust his memories from before he died, but he also scrutinized what he had thought he felt at that time. His stomach turned and he began to feel nauseous, breath quickening yet again. He was so conflicted and overwhelmed, yet he didn't have the energy to try to do anything to help it. He momentarily considered alerting the night nurse but refused to submit and allow anyone to see him like this. Within minutes he had worked himself up to the point of dizziness and quickly darkness began to cloud his vision. He passed out and dreamlessly slept through the rest of the night.

The next day Jim awoke as McCoy entered the room grumbling quietly, though he appeared significantly less tired than he had the day before. Jim blinked absently as he yawned and attempted to stretch, "Shit! Why does moving hurt so much?" he winced and drew his arms back down slowly.

"Damn, did I wake ya? I was trying to be quiet. And it's likely because you've been immobile and unconscious for a little over two weeks. I gave you boosters to prevent muscular atrophy, but that doesn't mean your not gonna be sore and a little skinny." Bones held in a choked chuckle as he saw the frown and pout on Jim's face.

"What? Dammit, Bones… give me a mirror or something." McCoy activated the mirror and the reflection appeared above Jim. His eyes widened as he saw himself.

"I haven't been this scrawny since I was a kid…" the Captain sighed, mourning the loss of his nice golden complexion and painstakingly maintained musculature. Beneath the superficial sadness, he was quite uncomfortable and uneasy seeing himself like this. It only proved to remind him of a time when he was truly cold, starving and afraid. Again he closed his eyes and let the feeling wash over him so he could move on and forget about it. He really had gotten much better, he rarely even thought of Tarsus IV, especially in the pleasant lull between the Narada incident and Khan. But since he had woken up, it seemed as if he were back in his late teen years. McCoy recognized the even minuscule and fleeting change on his friends face, and his own turned from humorous snark to concern. "You okay kid?"

Jim snapped to attention and put on his carefully crafted mask of nonchalance as he replied. "Oh yeah, I'm just writing the eulogy in my head for my poor, poor body." He shook his head and faked a crocodile tear, dramatically wiping it away with an overdone sniffle.

"Can it, ya narcissist." Leonard retorted, feeling slightly annoyed at being brushed off. He continued, letting his concern show. "Seriously though, you know you can talk to me, about anything."

Jim stiffened a little, and his face became more serious and held a little regret and apology. "I know, sorry Bones. I'm fine though, really. Just adjusting to having been dead and all."

Leonard looked a little wary and didn't believe Jim was giving him the full story, but conceded. "Oh yeah, speaking of the whole dead business, once you're out of here and discharged, you've got mandatory therapy sessions to attend. Not that there are regulations in mental health pertaining to dying and coming back to life, but even those who have near death experiences need a little help to get over what they've been through. And what you went through was far past near-death."

The look on Jim's face was the absolute opposite of impressed and he sent a wary glare in Bones' direction. "You can't be serious. I didn't attend the 'mandated' therapy all through the first year at the Academy, what makes you think I'm gonna go now?"

McCoy didn't miss a beat before responding. "I don't think you're going to go now, you've always just talked my ear off about your problems. Which is fine by me by the way. But maybe this time, if there are things you don't want to talk to me about, you can tell them to an objective third party."

Jim seemed to ponder for a bit while Bones got busy with his work around the room. The doctor checked through readings as was now his usual routine. "Hey, your vitals spiked after I left last night. Twice. Did somethin' happen?"

The blonde wracked his brain for a moment, trying to find some kind of believable excuse. While he did fully trust his friend, he didn't want to add to the reasons Bones was stressed, and he didn't want anyone at all to know that he was struggling again, despite how it had really seemed like he'd beaten his demons. He looked at his friend as a reason popped into his head. "Well, I may have been unconscious, but it's been… many moons since I've.. touched a woman... I had pent up tension man, which I relieved. Twice." Jim put on the theatrics and winked cheekily at his friend as he finished his explanation. Bones face turned sour and disgusted as he coughed a little and sent a glare Jim's way.

"Oh well sorry I asked, jackass." The doctor continued with his work, with a new look of distaste on his face. He didn't fully believe Jim's excuse, but also knew not to pry. Not yet at least. Whenever his friend was struggling with coping, he learned to wait until he was informed by the man himself before attempting to obviously help, coming to realize that pre-emptive persistence only drove Jim away. Unless Kirk began displaying his older destructive habits, he would leave him alone, to a reasonable extent.

The short hours of McCoy's shift were soon over, and it was nearing noon. "I let everyone know this morning that you were up and that they could visit in short bursts. Everyone said they'd pop by, but I don't want ya having too much fun yet." Jim looked quite relieved at the prospect of visitors.

"Thanks, Bones, got any plans for the rest of the day? Or are you gonna stick around for a bit, keep your old pal company?" Part of the young Captain dreaded being alone again after what happened the previous night. The whole thing was not ideal and he didn't particularly want to sleep the day away if he were going to have visitors as well.

"Yeah, I'm outta here actually. Got an… appointment for lunch." Jim eyed Leonard suspiciously, knowing that tone when he heard it from him.

"An appointment huh? What's her name?" The blonde smirked at his friend, feeling proud already.

"Oh, no way, no way in hell am I just gonna-" Bones began before being promptly interrupted by an excited and devious Jim Kirk.

"Is she smart? Is she cute? Have I met her? Oh I have, haven't I? Is it that ensign from the science department? Or wait, wait… is it that nurse? Chapel? Come on… give me something here!" McCoy sighed and rolled his eyes, quickly conceding.

"Yes she's smart and she's a damn knock out. And you bet your ass you've met her. Its.. uh, it's Carol Marcus." Bones blushed a little bit, quite inconspicuous but not unnoticed by Jim. The blonde's eyes widened a bit and he couldn't help but smile. He went from simply proud to just plain impressed.

"Damn it, guess I missed the ship on that one. But I'm proud of ya Bones. How'd ya swing that one?" Kirk pretended to be slightly hurt at his lost opportunity but in truth, he was simply happy for his friend.

"Oh don't act so surprised." The doctor started and continued, toning down the silly grin on his face as he did. "Actually she asked me out, guess that southern charm of mine actually does work sometimes."

"And here I thought the Gorn octuplet story would never work." Jim started with a smile and a laugh that spread to McCoy as he was soon laughing too.

"Alright well, I'm not scheduled to be back until morning tomorrow, but I'll stop by tonight on my way back to check in." Leonard gave the blonde a small smile and was quickly out the door.

"Enjoy your date!" Jim shouted after him, smirking and hoping he heard it. Again he settled into silence and also settled himself into his bed, attempting to be as comfortable as possible since he was likely to be stuck in it for the next day or two. He tried his best to find interesting things to think about, avoiding the sleepiness that was beginning to creep back in. He began to notice that the exertion of talking and being awake and engaging was surprisingly taxing, and left him quickly tired. He stifled a yawn as his eyes started to close naturally, darkness clouding his vision as light sleep again overtook him.

* * *

He hadn't slept too terribly long before the sound of the _swoosh_ of the door woke him again. But this time it wasn't the face he was expecting, it was three faces he was very pleased to see. Chekov, Sulu and Scotty had all came together in the late afternoon to visit their Captain. They all had rather similar expressions of relief on their faces as they saw that their fearless leader had indeed awoken. They approached the bio-bed with vigour and excitement, smiling and grinning, and Jim was grinning right back at them.

"It's good to see you alive sir." Sulu stated, keeping an air of professionalism, remembering his rank.

"Yes Keptin, it is wery good to see that you are avake!" the young Russian chimed in as well, leading to Scotty's statement that immediately followed.

"I cannae believe your alive, but I'm damn glad ye are sir." The Scotsman spoke with relief, but beneath that, he felt as if he were seeing a ghost. He quickly got over it though, happy to see his friend up and around despite what he had seen happen in the reactor that day.

"Oh come on guys, the ship's out of commission, I'm stuck in a bio-bed, we are definitely off-duty. It's Jim." The blonde smiled at the men around him, considering himself undoubtedly among friends.

"Aye, sir."/ "Yes Keptin." / "Aye Cap'n" all resounded and they all burst out laughing, finding pleasant humour in the little things.

"So, did anything interesting happen while I was out?" Jim asked, wanting to be brought back up to speed, and enjoying the idle conversation.

"Well Jim, the lieutenant and the commander seem like they are not getting along wery well." Chekov informed tentatively as Kirk frowned slightly.

"Yeah, I heard Uhura ended things with him." Sulu weighed in, relaying the gossip he'd overheard in the commissary.

"Really? I heard it was the laddie that 'Terminated his involvement' with Uhura." Scotty corrected, with a slight distasteful look on his face. They all seemed to be in thought when Jim finally spoke.

"Nah I doubt it, they're probably fine. Couples fight, especially during times of crisis." The Captain finally said, with a certain wisdom and little puff of dissatisfied laughter. He felt a little knot form in his stomach as he said the words, but he brushed it off and decided to inquire with Bones later as to what it was, telling himself it was indigestion or something. The four of them continued to talk about aforementioned little things, gossip from the crew, news from the Academy and their possible plans for their extended stay on Earth.

"Oh, before I forget, I thought you probably haven't had a real meal yet, so I brought you a little something to hold you over until your discharged." Sulu smiled and picked up a little take out box he'd set down beside the chair earlier. He handed it to Jim and Kirk wanted to cry as he opened it and saw its contents. It was a simple cheeseburger, but suddenly Jim had felt like he hadn't eaten in weeks. Which in reality, he hadn't. He inhaled the whole thing in about a minute, completely disregarding the people around him. The three of them all watched with slightly disgusted, humorous looks on their faces. They all snickered a little as Jim wiped his mouth with the wrapping.

"What? I haven't eaten in weeks! And thanks Sulu, I think I'll survive 'til tomorrow now." Jim relaxed back a bit with a fully sated look on his face. They all chatted for another hour or so before deciding to get back to their respective Star Fleet apartments. They bid their Captain goodnight and promised to be there when he was to be discharged. Jim settled back into the most comfortable place on the bio-bed, which was slightly to the left and down just far enough that his feet didn't hang off the end. He glanced at the chronometer and saw that it was approaching 1900, he wondered if he'd have any more visitors before Bones returned to check on him. Jim thoroughly doubted that Uhura would visit him, he questioned whether Spock would visit or not but scowled a bit after deciding it was doubtful. _'Bones mentioned that "everyone" said they'd pop by... I guess that's everyone.'_ The Captain dejectedly mulled over his lack of visitors, quickly coming back to being aggravated, then insecure about the reasoning behind his first officer's absence. Soon after, he came full circle and let out a petulant puff of air telling himself, _'Fuck it! There's no way I'm going to get all worked up over nothing! Spock is a good friend and a great first officer. I'm not going to screw that up with ridiculous post-coma, pre-death ideas.'_

Jim let out another huff of air and was quickly feeling quite a bit better after a short inner pep-talk. The minutes crawled by, when it finally rolled around to 2000 and Leonard came sauntering in, with an oddly pleased expression on his face. "With that look on your face, I'm gonna bet your date went well?" The blonde raised his eyebrows as he proudly grinned at his friend.

"You bet your ass it went well. She's a hell of a woman." Bones grinned back, and walked over to one of the chairs that had been left by Jim's earlier visitors, and sat down with a pleased sigh. "So, get any visitors while I was gone?"

Jim smiled a small tired smile and replied. "Yeah, Sulu, Chekov and Scotty all stopped by together. It was great to see familiar faces that aren't only you, no offence."

"None taken, I'd go nuts if you were the only person around for more than a couple days." McCoy cringed at the thought, before continuing. "Damn, only them? I was expecting to have to throw out a whole assembly when I got here. Or at least the hob-goblin."

"Only them, and come on, it's probably not 'Logical' to visit someone who's just waiting to be discharged." Jim let out a good-natured laugh and watched as Bones snorted and laughed along with him. They talked some more, coming to the topic of Carol quickly. "So, how exactly did that happen? I refuse to believe that the Gorn Octuplets story had anything to do with it."

McCoy glared at his friend with a touch of his signature scowl, "Damn it, Jim, I'm a doctor! Not some gossiping hen." But that expression quickly faded as he chuckled a little and the pleased, smug look returned. "She comm.'d me to check in on you while you were out, we ended up getting drinks, and here we are."

"Wow Bones, I'm impressed. And you're welcome then." Jim replied, with a smug grin on his own face as well.

"I'm welcome for what exactly?" Bones suspiciously inquired.

"For giving her an excuse to ask you out, come on Bones, I'm the best wingman ever, even while in a coma!" The young Captain let out a self-satisfied laugh and continued to smile smugly at the doctor.

"Alright alright, I'll give you that one. But only because you're a sickly patient." McCoy deviously smirked and burst out laughing as he saw Jim's pout. They held their wonderfully familiar banter as Bones quickly checked all of the equipment and read all their respective readings. Jim yawned, as did Leonard. "Well, I'm off. Get some rest. I'll decide after your morning checkup, but I might let you outta here tomorrow. If you're lucky."

Jim felt more relieved then he looked, and he looked rather relieved. "God I hope so. I might go crazy staring at these walls another day."

"Yeah, _you're_ welcome. See you in the morning." The doctor replied as he got up. Jim said his thanks and goodnights as his friend was out the door. The Captain had tossed and turned, mind fitfully overactive, but he grounded himself with the hope he'd get to finally leave the sterile white of the room around him. And with that, he melted again into a deep sleep.

 **A/N: Sorry this is a little late, but this thing was a damn beast. I think I'm planning for too much to happen per chapter, making them longer and longer. Even this one was cut off before finishing all that was meant to be in it. And this boi is LONG. I will say though, this chapter hurt the least to edit, so maybe it's not a terrible chapter. At least I hope it isn't.**

 **Many thorough thanks to all that reviewed/commented on the last chapter, they are what really kept me motivated on this one. Ya'll are wonderful, fantastic people.**

 **And thus, as usual, please do leave me a review, short or long. Just lemme know what you're thinking so far, I love reading it and it fuels my writing and life force like nobodies business.**


	7. Drunken Shenanigans

The sun rose dimly on the morning of the second day proceeding Jim's hospital stay having become one spent consciously. Spock awoke after two hours of light, efficient sleep. The previous day had passed in a timely fashion, as he continued to catch up on the massive amount of "paperwork" that was involved with a maniacal, treacherous member of the Starfleet admiralty nearly destroying the fleet's flagship. That first preliminary amount of reports did not even include all relating to Khan and the death of the Enterprise's Captain. While much of the work was mundane, repetitive and somewhat unnecessary, Spock was appreciative of the distraction. He hadn't yet returned to the medical wing in the Starfleet campus since he left when Jim had woken up. The doctor had apprised him of Jim's general condition and that he was now permitted to have visitors. The half-Vulcan had considered returning to "visit" the Captain, and nearly did. He had felt compelled to return to his friends side, to visually confirm that Jim was indeed still conscious and alive. It was that compulsion that prevented him from going to see Jim. He had come to the conclusion that it was not only illogical to visit a patient for a second time when said patient is to be promptly discharged. But he also deemed it unwise to be in Jim's presence before fully sorting out his newfound emotional predicament. Although it was relieving to finally be free of the constant stark and sterile medical environment, and in a private space of his own, Spock found himself feeling rather… lost. The commander had not predicted that within two short weeks he would have become so accustomed to his previous circumstances. He had grown quite used to being in reasonably close proximity to Jim at nearly all times. Now that he was again, albeit comfortably, alone, he often felt an odd pang in his side realizing that he couldn't visually or physically, or even mentally feel Jim's life-force. Spock realized, somewhat begrudgingly, that he did not particularly enjoy or approve of being so "far" from his Captain for longer than a single day. He rationalized it as being expected and quite standard for one to have constant routine, and to be irked by the change of such. _'Prior to the Captain's incapacitation, we had began to establish a routine of taking meals together, and spending occasional nights in each other's company engaging in matches of chess. It is reasonable that I would find slight… discontent with abrupt change to said routine.'_ Spock was thoughtful, as he sat in the standard issue chair beside the standard issue desk that were in every Starfleet apartment. He told himself he shouldn't allow something as simple and commonplace as change to his daily routine to affect him so, reciting in his head the irrationality of letting his duties be disrupted by his vexation over… trivial… things. But nonetheless, he completed his reports at a pace, to his calculation, 2.84% slower then usual.

The sun danced it's way across the sky and it was soon evening. Spock received correspondence from one of the administrators at the Academy, extending the invitation to return to lecturing for Starfleet in his available time on Earth. He had been quite content in his time spent teaching at the Academy, but he found now, that it could not compare to his position on the USS Enterprise. He pondered the possibility and while he did not yet respond, he was quite assured he would indeed end up returning to his place in the Academy for the unknown stretch of time the Enterprise would be grounded. It was illogical to do nothing and without other desirable active duty available without transferring to another ship, it was simply sensible to be where he was most comfortable and most useful. The half-Vulcan's mind diverted ever so slightly as he began to wonder what exactly the Captain would do once he was discharged from the infirmary. The circumstances of Jim Kirk's rapid promotion to captaincy had left him without much prior experience with his rank on Earth, and also in a way without purpose while off-duty. Spock's brows dipped downward momentarily as he considered Jim's possible predicament. Spock let out a small huff of air as he stood from his chair and decided to replicate an evening meal, finish his reports and spend the remainder of the night in meditation.

* * *

Jim had awoken once when the morning nurse arrived to check his vitals and bring him a small replicated meal. He picked at the questionable med-bay breakfast food, ate some and went back to sleep afterwards. The next time he woke up was in the late afternoon, when Bones entered after he'd began his daily shift.

"I heard you haven't eaten much, you know that's _really_ not going to help your weight loss problem," McCoy spoke as he perused the medical reports and checked all the equipment. Jim made a slightly disgusted face and sent a sideways scowl at his friend.

"Come on Bones, find me one person who likes hospital food. No one likes hospital food." Jim stuck out his tongue a little and made a disgusted noise that matched his face.

"Oh you come on, the replicators in here are the same as the ones on the ship, or anywhere." Bones replied with a vigorous eye roll.

"Maybe so, but there is just something inherently gross and unappetizing about any food in any kind of medical facility. Remind me to get a good burger when I'm out of here." The captain said, settling back into the bed a bit.

"Well lucky for you, all the readings have been steady and uneventful so I guess I can finally discharge you." McCoy looked to his friend who let out a long sigh, full of relief. "You're leaving when I do though, I don't trust you to not somehow find a way to cause trouble from here to the apartments." he scowled a bit as he sent a small half-hearted glare Jim's way.

Jim didn't glare back, he only grinned, feeling incredibly relieved to be able to leave his sterile white medical hell. "As long as I get to leave, I don't even care. I can't wait to get out of here."

McCoy finished his duties in Jim's suite and moved on to complete his other responsibilities around the infirmary, popping back in every now and then. In the short hour or two that Bones was gone, Jim found himself going, even more, stir crazy than before. Somehow knowing the end of his stay was in sight made his situation seem all the more unpleasant. He dreaded the silence only accompanied by beeps of the equipment, no hustle and bustle of his crew, no friendly banter. The room seemed so much smaller than before and realizing the claustrophobic scale of his surroundings only proved to remind him of the reactor on his ship. He began to panic and feel increasingly uncomfortable, not wanting to relive the events, the pain. A few minutes passed and Bones walked back into the room, and Jim's eyes were wide but he let out the breath he'd been holding.

* * *

"You ready to get out of here?- Hey, are you okay?" The doctor had changed into his casual uniform with a bag in one hand as his expression turned to concern.

Jim inhaled deeply and calmed himself, "Yeah, I'm just going stir crazy in here. Wanna grab a drink on the way to wherever we're going?" he thoroughly hoped his friend wouldn't choose now to refuse a drink because he really could use one.

"Far be it for me to turn down a good drink. At least this way I can keep my eye on ya." McCoy shrugged but kept in mind how Jim seemed when he entered the room. He made a mental note to try to get the truth out of Jim after a drink or two. "Here I brought you some clothes, but if you wanna go out into the world in your pretty gown go ahead." McCoy threw the clothes at him and let out a laugh at the thought of Jim running through the campus ass out for all of Starfleet to see. Quickly the humour turned to a scowl of distaste realizing that he was quite sure Jim had already done something like that in their time at the Academy, on multiple occasions.

Jim looked at McCoy and realized what had turned his look sour, and burst out laughing. "Whatcha thinkin' bout Bones?" he said while his eyebrow cocked and his smirk found its place on his face. At his friend's perpetual glare he added, "Like what you're remembering?"

"Nope, not even gonna go there, I'm forgetting it all, scrubbing my damn amygdala of it all, with bleach. Nuh uh." The doctor shuddered and walked to the other side of the room shaking his head.

"Alright, alright. Get out of here, I'll get changed and meet you outside. Any other stuff stashed in here that I should grab before I leave it forever?" Jim asked while getting himself out of his unpleasantly old seeming medical gown.

"No, not particularly. The only person that brought anything in here was the hobgoblin, but he got it all when he left the day you woke up." Bones answered as he approached the door and added, "I'll be outside."

Jim continued stripping off the old clothes and began to realize how much he was anticipating a nice hot shower. His brows furrowed a little, thinking of what Bones had said. _'Why would Spock have brought anything in here? It's not like him to carry around incidentals...'_ He threw on the casual civilian clothes that he assumed some ensign had brought down from his closet on the Enterprise. A nice crisp white t-shirt and some worn in dark-wash blue jeans. He started to question how long his first officer had spent at his side, but shook his head and decided there was no point in reading into anything.He tousled his hair a bit and realized his hair was a damn mess, but he couldn't care less since at last his hair was going to be a mess _outside_ of this damn medical suite.

He left the room and walked down a hall to the right and quickly found Bones talking to a nurse that was feverishly taking notes. "Just take 'er easy nurse. The patients don't bite, usually. The only one who would is right here, and he's leaving with me." McCoy assured the nurse with his mentoring tone of voice in place and a small chuckle. Jim looked at the nurse, she was pretty. Young, curvy with dark chocolatey hair, he couldn't deny her attractive qualities. He gave her his signature smirk and wink and she blushed a dark red, clutching her PADD closer to her chest.

"Thank you, doctor! Have a good evening!" The nurse almost yelled and retreated expeditiously down the hall. Bones rolled his eyes and shook his head as he began to walk in the direction in which Jim assumed the exit was to be found.

"So, is that little watering hole still open right outside the campus?" Kirk asked McCoy as they walked in step with each other, comfortably used to one another's pace.

"Yep, we're not staying too long though, I don't want you overdoing it right out of the medical wing. So don't get yer hopes up," Leonard spoke with an almost parental authority above his usual doctorly one. Jim often felt like Bones was the brother he'd always wished he had, what he wished Sam would have been. He also felt sometimes that Leonard used the same tone with him that he did with his little daughter Joanna. Either way, Jim let himself smile a little, anticipating a good stiff drink.

* * *

They quickly arrived at the little bar on the outskirts of the Academy campus. They entered the comforting dive and many eyes were on them, or more accurately, on Jim. Patrons of the bar and cadets alike stared in silent awe, and respect for the Captain who had died and somehow returned to life. Starfleet hadn't released a proper statement on what happened, but a casualty report had been leaked showing the death of one James T. Kirk. Many cadets were shocked and saddened by the news, some of those who didn't particularly like Jim celebrated. But all were surprised that the brash, young Captain had perished so soon. So when Ensigns aboard the Enterprise began talking about their comatose yet miraculously alive Captain to their friends on the ground, word spread like wildfire that James Tiberius Kirk had defeated death, and was still alive. No one had seen him though, as he remained in the med-bay for the majority of the time they had all been speculating.

A good majority of the people populating the quaint bar were with Starfleet and were thus distinctly aware of Jim's identity. There was a thick air of disbelief and usually, the attention being drawn to him would have pleased Kirk and inflated his ego, but now it only proved to make him uncomfortable. It was Bones that finally broke the silence and the spell that seemingly everyone was under by clapping Jim on the shoulder and shouting to the small crowd. "Yeah, the 'great Captain Kirk' is alive, get back to your drinks folks, he's just as insufferable as before."

Jim smiled somewhat sheepishly at his friend as they walked to the bar. The captain ordered two double whiskeys and turned to lean on the old reclaimed wooden counter. Soon their drinks were served and McCoy enjoyed the liquor as he always did, slowly and appreciatively. But Jim, on the other hand, downed the whole thing before Leonard's second sip. Just as he was about to order a second, the door opened and in walked a rowdy and friendly-faced trio. Chekov, Sulu and Scotty entered the bar laughing and instantly spotted their Captain and senior medical officer.

Various versions of 'Captain!' were heard from the entrance as the three men headed towards Jim and Leonard. "We're still very much off duty, so again, its Jim to all of you." Jim reminded them before posing a simple question. "What are you two drinking?"

Before any of them answered Chekov pouted. "Vhat do you mean, two?" the young navigator spoke with his face turning definitively sulky. All of the men snickered a little, holding in their laughter.

"I may have died and only woken up a few days ago, but I wasn't born yesterday. I haven't forgotten that you, the _teenage_ genius, is still underage." Jim spoke with a surprisingly mature tone despite his good-naturedly raised brow and smirking mouth. Something flickered in his eyes, his smile faltered and he turned to face the bartender. "Barkeep! Another round for me and my friend, a round for these two of whatever they want, and a soda for that one." He shouted over the noise of the rambunctious crowd. The bartender smiled widely and nodded.

He turned back around to his friends with his smile just a bit tighter on his face, lines around his eyes creasing ever so slightly. Leonard's brows dipped in concern, but he said nothing. Their other friends didn't particularly notice, engaged in their decision of what to drink. Soon they were all served their respective alcoholic beverages and single soda. Chekov took the drink and forgot about his qualms about his age as he talked to Sulu about something or other that Jim couldn't quite make out. Kirk picked his second glass of whiskey up off the bar, brought it to his lips and tipped it all the way back. The caramel coloured malty liquid burned it's way down his throat, but he was glad for the numbing sensation that followed.

Leonard was still watching his friend with a concerned eye, knowing this form of drinking to be a telling sign of something being quite amiss. McCoy automatically assumed that it had to do with the psychological shock of legitimately dying and being brought back to life. He decided silently that if this kept up, he would intervene and try to get Jim to talk to him.

An hour passed and they were all having a good measure of fun, Jim was on his fifth straight whiskey double and yet was still somehow upright and functioning. The five of them were all gathered around a pool table, poorly shooting. The soberest among them were Chekov and Leonard, but somehow Jim was still winning, Chekov in a close second. Scotty and Sulu on the other hand were quite drunk, the Scotsman was nearly unintelligible, and the helmsman was off balance and leaning against the table heavily. The young Captain ordered another drink and downed it as he did the others. He didn't usually drink this much anymore, unless he was alone and wanted to forget. The problem was, it wasn't affecting him the way it used to. For whatever reason he just couldn't get as ridiculously, forget-your-own-name wasted as he was trying to. He felt pleasantly numb but he knew he could still form coherent thoughts. That was presently an issue for Jim T. Kirk. He held up a finger to his friends, trying to convey his wish for them to pause for a moment. He walked over to the bar and shouted something at the bartender who looked surprised but nodded with an expression of mixed humour and concern. Jim reached over the bar and grabbed the full bottle of their strongest bourbon, removed the cap and tipped the whole thing back. He drank about half the bottle as he began to walk back to where McCoy, Sulu, Chekov and Scotty were all staring at him with different variations of shocked expressions on their faces. The intoxicated ones were simply surprised and hollered in approval, Chekov looked impressed but somewhat concerned, and Bones was thoroughly frowning in increasing worry. He approached the table and went to down the rest of the bottle, before Leonard grabbed his arm and yelled at him. "What are ya doing man? Are you trying to kill yourself all over again? I don't really have it in me to go unfreeze Khan for more super blood." As Jim began to look guarded at his concern, he tried to turn to humour to diffuse to tension.

Kirk clapped the doctor on the shoulder and smiled, "I'm fine Bones, just enjoying being alive!" he quickly brought the bottle back to his mouth and drained the remainder of the liquor. He was finally beginning to feel a little fuzzy. The Captain brought the bottle down and placed it unceremoniously on the edge of the pool table. "Let's get back to the game, so I can finish kicking all your asses!"

Chekov grinned with a sinister grin on his face, intending to win, Sulu grinned, not particularly caring about the outcome of the game. Scotty grumbled drunkenly, shouting Scottish sounding curses in the direction of the Captain. "Ye think ye can win? Ye cannae win… laddie, I'll whoop yer arse any day…." The engineer trailed off and leaned on a nearby post, nearly dropping his cue. McCoy loosened up slightly and decided to join the others in their intoxication, but only because he knew his friend well and surrendered the hope of getting Jim to open up to him tonight.

* * *

Chekov won the game, to the surprise of Leonard and the inebriated pride and amazement of the others. They all came to the silent agreement that it'd be wise to venture back to their abodes before they found a way to publicly embarrass themselves further. They were all assigned apartments in the same dorm-like area near the Academy, so they all walked and shuffled and tripped their ways home together. All of their separate accommodations were within the same wing and they began to make their way towards their own places. Chekov held up Sulu, who was too drunk for his own good and barely walking straight. He sheepishly smiled and nodded in goodbye to his superior officers and headed off. Sulu and Chekov's assigned rooms were across from the others, so it worked out anyway. Scotty staggered his way to the left and waved goodnight, almost tipping himself over in the process. Leonard who was now at least reasonably buzzed, let out a hearty laugh at the engineer's lack of coordination.

Jim stood with his hands on his hips and smiled at his dear friend. "What are'ya lookin' at? I'm a doctor…not a piece of meat!" McCoy slurred only slightly, though he didn't realize it. Jim burst out laughing, almost doubling over, and smacked the doctor on the shoulder.

"Oh man, Bones, I love ya but you're not my type of meat." Kirk's vision swam, but collected itself quickly, as he took a little step back, still smiling.

"Of course not, you like your meat Vulcan, dontcha?" Leonard grinned fiendishly and waggled his eyebrows at the same time. Jim coughed a little and shook his head before putting his lopsided grin back in place.

"Goodnight, Bonesy." He saluted lazily and took off in the direction he remembered McCoy telling him his apartment was in earlier. He also vaguely recalled the apartment number and looked at the doors as he passed them by, seeing that he was going in the semblance of the correct way. McCoy had returned the salute while sending a friendly glare Jim's way before setting off in the direction of his own place.

Jim's feet connected with the floor and it felt soft under his shoes, he looked down and regretted it as he felt quite dizzy as he looked back up. He staggered a step but kept on. The blonde Captain continued onward, looking at the numbers as he did, he thought to himself he must be getting closer. He then happened upon a number that seemed familiar so he decided he had reached his destination.

Jim went to enter his standard Starfleet personal code, and it didn't work. _'Damn it, stupid fingers…'_ He assumed his intoxicated state was inhibiting his ability to input codes accurately. Which it well might have. But as he tried to enter it again, the door slid open. He allowed a silent hurrah, in celebration of his accomplishment. As he went to lumber his way into his untouched apartment, he connected instead with a firm and toned chest. He opened his eyes further and registered the figure standing beyond the threshold. Jim did a rapid double take and ended up leaning with one arm on the left side of the metal frame of the door.

"Well fancy meeting you here, Spock."

* * *

 **A/N: Damn this one is late, I've been barely working and with being sick and trying to find a sustainable job it's been hard to find the time or motivation to write. I know this one is pretty rough, I'll probably go through and edit it some more before posting it, but I have to say I actually like this one. It made me all giddy as I wrote it since things are finally starting to pick up. This whole story is totally running away with me, it's already ending up much longer than anticipated. I'm gauging a guess of at least 10-15 more chapters before it'd done. I've never written anything this long before, so it is definitely new to me.**

 **Please let me know what you thought of this one, whether it's a short little comment or review, or a long boi for me to read, I enjoy it all! I love hearing all your feedback, it makes my dreary days much brighter! THANK YOU TO ALL OF YOU WHO READ MY WORK! YOU'RE ALL FANTASTIC**


	8. Static Electricity

Spock had earlier adjusted the replicator to include options more suitable to his vegetarian palate. He had settled in after completing his proverbial 'stack' of reports. The half-Vulcan had replicated his most preferred food item, the meal that he, despite himself, found comfort in. It reminded him of his destroyed home planet and his late mother, the dish was plomeek soup. He ate and enjoyed his meal knowing that there was no one to scold him for eating for pleasure instead of necessity. His mother always made such wonderful plomeek soup, whenever he replicated it, it never tasted exactly the same. The thought of never being able to taste his mother's cooking again, while an obvious and somewhat inconsequential repercussion of her passing, brought a stinging pain to his heart. Spock drew in a breath, and exhaled slowly, willing the pain to leave with his breath. And it did, for the most part, leaving behind the numb dull ache of grief.

A short while after finishing his evening meal, he opened a small cupboard. It slid open and within were a few of his personal effects, including his meditation mat. He brought it out and placed it on the floor of the living room area. "Lights, 20%." He spoke in a quiet tone as the room obeyed him and the ambient lighting dimmed quite low. He looked out the window and saw that the sun had mostly set, and the stars were beginning to show themselves. He then sat down on the mat and closed his eyes. Spock centred his mind and slowed his breathing to his usual controlled pace, and quite quickly he slipped into his mental landscape. He floated through memories that had become easier to process, he had worked through the majority of the memories that were related to Jim's death. He had accepted the events and his actions, and very nearly accepted his emotions regarding the person involved in the matter. Over the past few days of being alone with nothing more than overflow reports to attend to, he had much time to meditate and work through what he had been feeling. Spock had somewhat accepted that he had deep respect and admiration for his Captain, and while he couldn't condone or justify his moderately possessive and overly protective behaviours towards Jim, he had accepted their existence. He had also begun to accept and was no longer so thoroughly perturbed by his hypothesis of the bond that possibly existed between Jim and himself. Despite his meditative rationalization and acceptance, he was still uncertain of what action to take regarding Jim. While his scientific mind told him to investigate and explore the possibilities, his heart and insecurity told him to ignore it all and continue with his amiable friendship and team-centric relationship with his Captain. His logic fought within himself, one side believing it most logical to investigate the bond and link between them, and the other side thinking it preposterous to even consider the possibility of such a thing between his superior officer and himself. He was feeling quite a bit more amicably about the whole situation but was still undeniably torn. The golden thread, with the pulsating rhythm, had retreated far into his mind, he could barely feel the warmth he'd previously experienced. His landscape had become much colder and dark, as it was before. He was accustomed to this version of his mind, but he could in no way deny that he felt a small longing for the warmth and calmness he had felt before.

* * *

A few hours passed, the sun had fully disappeared from the clear sky and the stars had settled into their places in the darkness once again. Spock was still deeply calm and peacefully in meditation when he heard an alert originating from the door. The door, which someone was outside of and attempting to gain entrance. Spock's eyes shot open and he was promptly on his feet, approaching the door. He pressed the command to open it, to reveal to him who his late-night intruder was. The metallic panel slid to the right with its usual _'swoosh'._ The intruder walked forward and his chest connected firmly with the Vulcan's, and his face lightly brushing Spock's before quickly retreating a step and revealing a face belonging to the last person he expected to see that night.

"Well fancy meeting you here, Spock." Jim's voice was deep and somewhat gravelly, slurring ever so slightly. Spock's eyes widened and his heart stuttered the tiniest bit. Jim had seemed to have almost lost his balance and had thus decided to raise his left arm to rest and lean on the frame of the door.

"Captain, I was not aware you had been discharged. Might I inquire as to the reason that you were attempting to enter my apartment?" Spock shook his head imperceptibly, in pursuit of physically shaking off whatever was causing his heart rate to increase so exponentially.

"So this _isn't_ my apartment. Dammit… I recognized the number, I thought I must have been in the right place… My bad." Jim pouted a bit and began to step back into the hallway. Before Jim could retreat further and before Spock particularly knew what he was doing, his arm shot out and he captured Jim's arm in his hand. The second his hand connected with Jim's skin, he felt the radiant light return from the recesses of his mind, and that intoxicating warmth washed over him. He instinctively pulled Jim closer, and only began to realize what he was doing as his Captain had raised his right hand and gripped Spock's robe for balance. Spock looked down to Jim's hand, twisted in his robe, and looked to the right to his own hand, still grasping Jim's arm. He loosened his grip but the blonde in front of him did not. Jim seemed to begin to fall back a bit before reaching his other hand up and balling his fist in the side of the dark haired Vulcan's robe. The action of which brought him even closer to Spock, their chests almost touching. The skin to skin contact, simply his hand to Jim's upper arm, made a calmness and peace flow through him.

The Captain let out a contented sigh and raised his head in an attempt to look at the steadfast pillar of a person that was holding him up. Spock's deep mahogany eyes were nearly black, with his pupils encompassing the majority of his irises, he looked down and his eyes met turbulent oceanic blue. Jim's lips parted slightly and he stared in wonder for a few moments before his brows furrowed sluggishly and he spoke. "Sorry, Spock, I know you don't like people touching you…" And with that, his head rolled to the left slightly but he made herculean effort to push himself away from his Vulcan first officer. The young blonde slid himself from Spock's grasp and the dark-haired of the two found himself mourning the loss of Jim's oddly soft skin beneath his palm. Spock righted himself and gathered his somewhat mussed robe before responding.

"It's… quite alright Captain… Allow me to assist you in finding your assigned accommodations." Spock's voice was deep, and quiet, attempting to exude only calmness. "You may enter, I will access the records to ascertain which apartment was assigned to you." He spoke as he stepped back allowing room for Jim to enter. Jim thanked him in somewhat of a mumble as he took dangerously wobbly steps. He passed the threshold into Spock's apartment and the door slid closed behind him. "Lights, 50% brightness. Take a seat where you please, I will return in a moment."

Spock walked off and a door slid closed behind him. Kirk took a few lumbering steps further into the apartment before plopping down onto the nearest chair. A few moments later Spock reemerged wearing his casual uniform, with a dataPADD in his right hand. "You didn't have to get dressed for me…" Jim looked up at Spock through lidded eyes with a lazy smirk on his face. _'I preferred the robe.. and whatever was or wasn't underneath it…'_ The Captain thought to himself as he proceeded to smirk and lean forward slightly, resting his elbow on his knee, and his chin in his hand.

Spock nearly tripped on air as he saw the face that accompanied the statement that had come out of Jim's mouth. He steadied himself and attempted to avoid mentally or physically squirming under his Captain's watchful gaze. The half-Vulcan cleared his throat ever so slightly, so quietly, it was barely even audible. But it somehow snapped Jim back to the present anyway. The blonde blinked ferociously, shaking his head as he leaned back and straightened his posture. He brought his hands to his face and dragged them over it, groaning slightly as he did.

"Dammit, sorry Spock, I had _quite_ a bit to drink tonight," Jim spoke and the slur was almost entirely gone, but his sway was still slightly present.

"I do not require an apology. There is no need… I have ascertained that you have been assigned the apartment to the direct right of my own, which is likely the cause of your familiarity with the unit number." Spock placed the PADD down on his desk as he walked by it, on his way to the door. He looked back at Jim, who was still situated in the chair, looking somewhat uncomfortable. Jim shook his head a little again, and found Spock's eyes, and immediately stood. The quick movement threatened to throw him off balance but he fought to remain upright. The half-Vulcan saw his slight stumble and held back the instinct to go to him and hold him up and succeeded as he tur. Spock pressed the command on the panel beside the door and it slid open. He stepped outside and watched Jim as he followed. They walked to the right, Spock remaining slightly closer then he would usually for the sake of monitoring Jim's condition and to be close enough to assist if he lost balance again.

* * *

Quite promptly they arrived at the unit beside the commander's, Jim went to input his entrance codes and they actually worked this time to his satisfaction. The door smoothly slid open, the Captain walked in and posed a question to his first officer.

"Would you come in for a second?" he asked, turning back to face Spock only a single step into the room.

"I do not see the logic behind coming in for a single second, Captain." The half-Vulcan was accustomed to many human idioms, metaphors and sayings, but he did find some amusement in aggravating some of his human counterparts with his feigned ignorance.

"You know what I mean, just, come in." Jim rolled his eyes as he ventured further into the apartment. Spock let out a little huff of air, as one corner of his lips couldn't help but raise slightly, both of which went unnoticed by Jim. The commander followed his Captain into the room, as the blonde looked around, spotting his various belongings on a table. "Well would ya look at that, they brought my tri-d chess set too. You up for a game?" Jim's tilted his head back to look at Spock with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Jim was beginning to sober up and with that, he was not particularly keen on the idea of being alone. And who better to keep him company than the friend that was already there.

"I suppose I can agree to one game, but I will find no enjoyment in defeating one that is disadvantaged so." Spock laced his hands between his back and he watched as his Captain cleared the rest of the table off and motioned for him to take a seat on the sofa adjacent to the one he had just sat back on. Spock approached and gracefully placed himself in a sitting position on the stiff couch cushion. They cooperated in setting up the pieces and occasionally their fingers brushed together and Spock felt little jolts of electricity shoot up his hand like crackling lightning. He averted his eyes and continued organizing pieces, he did not notice the confused look on Jim's face as he too had felt the electric sensation in his fingertips, and warmth worked his way up his arm before he shifted his gaze to Spock's face, attempting to ascertain whether or not he had felt it too. The half-Vulcan refused to meet his eyes, so the blonde continued his quest of organizing the chess pieces as well. Very quickly the multi-levelled board was set up and they began playing without a word between them.

Both of their faces wore expressions of concentration, though Spock's was almost undetectable. Halfway through the game Jim had fully sobered up but was too engrossed to notice. They continued playing, and Spock was impressed at how sharp his opponent was despite his previous inebriation. They were evenly matched, as always, and quite surprisingly Jim took the lead near the end. They were very close, but the blonde Captain managed to win the game, much to the subtle astonishment of his commander.

"Thank you for the game, I'll take my leave now, as it is quite late." Spock nodded casually at Jim as he got to his feet in one swift movement. He began to walk towards the entrance when he heard Jim's voice.

"Spock, wait." Before he could turn around he was stopped by Jim who had reached out and grabbed his hand with his own. Again sparks erupted from their joined hands, and that pleasant feeling of warmth and calm washed over them both. "Holy shit, did you feel that too? What is that? Have you been rubbing up against some carpet for a couple days?"

Spock withdrew his hand quickly, and turned around only partly, "It is nothing. It is as you said, static electricity." His upper torso swivelled back to face forward, and he proceeded to head towards the door.

"Spo-" Jim began but was quickly interrupted.

"Good night, Captain." Spock cut him off and was out the door in seconds. Jim was left slightly confused and feeling odd, and dreadfully cold. _'Well, that was weird…'_ He thought to himself as he started to strip off his crisp white t-shirt, and walked towards what he assumed was his bedroom. His brows were still furrowed, contemplating his first officer's behaviour. _'Maybe I was insane thinking we'd become friends, was it some death-related delusion?'_ Jim shook his head as he shimmied and stepped out of his jeans and collapsed onto the untouched bed in only his boxers. He stretched himself out over the full expanse of the mattress and continued to frown as he turned over onto his side and tried to wipe his mind clear so he could sleep. A long while later, after tossing and turning, finding no comfortable way to lie in his stiff standard issue bed, he fell into an unpleasant and fitful sleep.

* * *

 **A/N: Alright well, this one was shorter, mostly because it was supposed to be the end of the previous chapter, but I found it disrupted the flow. This was done last week, but I just got a new job so I got a little bit distracted. I have chapter nine all planned out and I hope to start writing it tomorrow or so. SHOUTOUT TO Pennington, your review made me real happy, thank you!**

 **I really hope y'all enjoy this little chapter, any reviews are SUPER APPRECITATED WITH ALL MY HEART AND SOUL, y'all are fantastic people.**

 **Live long and prosper.**


	9. Contemplation and Procrastination

Spock distinctly registered the sound of the metallic door sliding shut behind him. He let out an _almost_ audible huff of breath that had been pent up in his lungs. He looked behind him and stared at the metal surface, not yet moving from where he stood. The half-Vulcan contemplated, while finding his heart rate to be inexplicably elevated, the events that had just occurred as well as their various consequences and implications. Jim had been 'flirting' with him, he may have been intoxicated, but it had been the first time that the Captain had so openly displayed possible attraction to his first officer. Recalling the look in Jim's eyes as he'd opened the door to him, while inappropriately clothed in nothing more than his robes, made his breath nearly hitch in his throat. Spock returned to himself with a very small shake of his head, and came to the conclusion that the hallway was not the suitable venue to be hosting an inner conflict. After promptly gathering his bearings, he pivoted on one foot and returned to his own apartment. He quickly changed back into his comfortable and sensible robes, and sat down to attempt to revisit and continue his earlier interrupted meditation. While he hadn't had anything directly distressing to work through hours prior, he found that he did now. His toned, pale legs crossed over one another, and he smoothed the silken fabric of his robe down as he began to focus his mind and calm his breathing.

Spock mulled over the various events of the night. The fresh memories all around him, as he floated through the darkness of his mental landscape, were vivid, bright and warm. Due to the fact that they had just very recently transpired, revisiting so soon after was akin to reliving them in perfect detail. The image of the surprise and… hunger... in Jim's eyes as he had first opened his door caused a tingling heat to wash over him, in a way he enjoyed greatly, but felt was… wrong or morally irresponsible. While it was indeed Jim himself who had been overtly flirtatious with Spock, it was in a very intoxicated state. Spock refused to allow himself something as foolish and irrational as hope that his captain shared his ' _Affection? Respect? Attraction? What exactly is it that I would desire he reciprocate?'_ he mentally interjected. Either way he found it all quite illogical to consider possible reciprocation due to a singular instance of the Captain displaying that manner of action and disposition. Spock attempted to continue on to the other events of note from the evening, but Jim's voice followed him. The warm velvety voice reminded him of the comment that could have easily been taken as casual consideration, despite the wanton look on his friends face, if not for his extensive experience in witnessing Jim proposition and flirt with many others. Recalling the multitude of occasions he'd seen his Captain attempt to woo a great number of beings caused his subconscious to scowl. Spock then found himself feeling quite incredulous, as he could not deny the raw jealousy bubbling up inside him, yet he was fully aware of the lack of logic in allowing himself to feel bitter envy about things that had already happened long since.

He quite quickly accepted the irrationality of his jealousy and again found himself struggling to process the fact that he had been the subject of Jim's suggestive comments. Images of impossible possibilities, indecent… possibilities rushed through Spock's mind, his body reacted without his implicit control, and he groaned, not having had experienced such… excitement in many years. The last time he could recount had been during his previous Pon Farr, and though at the time he had been 'bonded' to T'Pring, he'd refused to mate with her. His father had been imperceptibly impressed that his son had managed to get through his first Pon Farr with only meditation. The half-Vulcan remembered the intense heat, pain and… need he felt during his time. He hadn't experienced anything remotely similar since that time, years ago. But now, as his mind lingered to illogical and uselessly inappropriate thoughts, he began to feel something similar curling and twisting in his abdomen. Though he would not admit it to himself later, he allowed himself to indulge in the sensation for a short while, before forcing himself back to the task at hand. Spock waded through the new memories, coming upon the instances that Jim had seemingly been aware of the bond, the times that their link had sparked at even the smallest physical contact. He wondered for a moment again, questioning the origin of the bond, but decided to discover such later. He noticed as well as he went through the occurrences that Jim had been increasingly aware of their bond when they would touch. The mere acknowledgement from the blonde Captain gave truth to the hypothesis Spock had come to consider. Not only did it practically confirm the existence of some sort of bond, but it also gave rise to more questions. Questions that Spock would be forced to truly take into consideration, after he was finished his present task. He then came upon the memory of his reaction and response to Jim questioning the feeling. He had lied, _'No, not...lied…'_ he told himself, but he had somewhat, withheld the complete truth. He had told Jim it was simply static electricity, which was quite obviously false and not very believable if he were completely forthright, but he was quite certain that Jim would not question it given the state he was in. He had deliberately attempted to avoid one particular memory, but to his subdued dismay, it followed behind him, and was the only event of the evening remaining. Jim had fallen forward and Spock had steadied him. He'd been able to feel Jim's, or perhaps his own, thrumming heartbeat under the pad of his thumb that was pressed into Jim's upper arm. He had been inwardly taken aback by how soft the young captain's skin was. Jim had reached up and balled his hands in Spock's robe in an attempt to remain upright. Their chests met and the half-Vulcan had very nearly lost himself to the intoxicating warmth that had spread across his body from all their points of contact. The blonde raised his head to look at him, and Spock instinctually swallowed, seeing the incredible depths of the lapis eyes gazing up at him, he could feel Jim's warm breath on his neck, and he tensed holding back a shiver that threatened to wrack his body. He didn't particularly know how long that moment had lasted, but in his meditative state, reliving it, it had seemed as if it stretched on endlessly. Spock nearly lost himself in the memory before managing to pull himself out of it and thus, out of his meditative state. His breathing was only slightly laboured, but by his own standards, he felt nearly out of breath. He soon stood and decided to retire to his bedroom to sleep for the remainder of the evening. While he knew he had questions to answer for himself, and decisions to make, he decided to leave them to be addressed the following day.

* * *

Jim woke up in what was likely the closest thing to his own bed that he'd slept in for weeks. Despite the comfort of somewhat ownership, he awakened feeling cold and uncomfortable. He rolled to his left side, willing himself to fall back asleep, but to no avail. The golden beams of morning sunlight streamed across the room and into Jim's tired eyes, leaving him fully and aggravatingly alert. Finally, he gave in and sat up with a groan, and a tired arm went to his head to scratch an inexplicable itch. His muscles still disagreed with excessive movement, but it was improving at an impressive rate. He let out a large, jaw-cracking yawn, and stood up from the edge of the bed. As he became fully upright, he was pleasantly surprised to find that he wasn't in the least bit hungover. Realizing that made him remember what exactly would have been the cause of his would be hangover. He had drank almost more than he ever had in his life, he couldn't remember enough of the evening to place a numerical value on it either. The majority of the night was a fuzzy blur for the most part, especially the middle, he had stayed annoyingly sober until his second full 26 oz. bottle of whiskey. He recalled them all playing pool, and… "Holy shit, the kid beat me!" Jim burst out laughing as he cued up a cup off coffee from the replicator. He felt a pleasant amount of pride for the young genius, he wasn't often beaten at pool. He grabbed his hot cup of painfully mediocre coffee and sat down on his stiff couch. He really did miss the old proper coffee maker that had belonged to his father, but his mother had kept at her home in riverside. As he relaxed into the rigid cushion, he remembered sitting in the same spot the previous night, with Spock across from him. They had played chess and he could recall a strange electric feeling, and a calm and peaceful warmth washing over him. Then Spock had left abruptly, and with him, the warmth went too. Jim's brows furrowed and he tried to remember what had happened before his first officer had ended up in his apartment, playing tri-d chess with him. He had began to sober up as they played, so his memory of that was much clearer, he wracked his brain and had a flash of a memory in which he was pressed up against a very firm and warm chest. The further he delved into his hazy memory, he realized that the afformentioned chest had belonged to his half-Vulcan commander. He had been holding on to Spock's robes… ' _Spock's robe! Oh shit…'_ As he remembered the robe itself, and Spock's remarkably warm and strong hands, he also vaguely began to remember what he had said to Spock , and the expression that he assumed accompanied it. ' _Oh no… what the hell did I say to him?'_

 _"You don't need to get dressed for me." 'I preferred the robe, or whatever was underneath it…' he felt himself pout as he looked the Vulcan up and down._

 _'Oh fuck. I really hope at least the last part was just in my head… did I say it all out loud? As if the first part wasn't bad enough! No wonder Spock left in such a damn hurry after chess…'_ Jim had a worried frown on his face. He thought he had thoroughly gotten through and over any and all inclinations other than friendship and camaraderie to do with his first officer, and yet with some serious liquor in his system it had all rushed back like vicious water through a broken dam.

Jim tipped back his coffee and finished it, standing up immediately. He started to pace back and forth, trying to rationalize how he had acted, what he had said and how he had looked at Spock. Remembering the feeling of Spock's skin spread fire across his cheeks and down his chest. But along with his attempted rationalization he was fretting over how mad, or in his case angrily neutral Spock must be at present. He felt as if he had managed to undo over a year of friendship in just one night. ' _Maybe it isn't that bad… I mean he is pretty dense when it comes to the inner workings of human emotion.. maybe he'll just chalk it up to drunken idiocy.'_ Or at least, that's what Jim desperately hoped. He remembered that despite the fact they were no longer on the Enterprise, Spock was still his neighbor. Jim wondered for a moment if he truly mistook Spock's room for his own due to the unit number or if in his drunken state he had assumed the room beside his own would belong to his first officer. The blonde let out a small nervous chuckle, not really knowing whether to be proud of himself or annoyed with himself. He stood up quickly as he shook his head and picked up his coffee mug and walked over to the kitchen. He put it down on the counter and ventured towards his bedroom to get dressed. He opened his closet and was pleasantly surprised to see that a good amount of his personal clothes and uniforms had been brought down from the ship. He smiled a tired smile and picked up one of his favourite well-worn off-white t-shirts, he considered for a moment the 'I Beat the Kobayashi Maru' shirt he had specially made for days he wanted to annoy Spock , but decided against it. He had made up his mind to attempt to apologize profusely to his Commander, with a respectable amount of grovelling if necessary. He also thought to check his reports and incidentals before leaving, and he let out a groan realizing the amount of work that had likely piled up. He pulled on a pair of ripped through actual wear blue jeans, and apprehensively approached the desk his PADD sat on. He sat down in the functional yet somewhat plush desk chair and entered in his log in information. The system jumped into action and he was immediately able to check his communications and reports. Quite predictably, he found many messages of well wishes and concern, but to his surprise and definite relief, he discovered that he had no reports to complete at all. His left brow dipped in hesitant curiosity as to who completed them, but as his gut inclined him to guess, it had been his diligent Vulcan first officer who had finished the entirety of his reports. He could barely help as an appreciative grin spread across his face. Quite immediately though, his face soured as he realized he had absolutely nothing to do, aside from asking for his Commander's forgiveness. The idea of being alone for long periods of time with nothing to do but think was frightful and not at all an option he wished to consider. He recalled why exactly he had tried so very hard to get as blackout drunk as possible the previous night, and that 'why' had everything to do with attempting to distract his racing mind for as long as he could the prospect of contemplating his death and subsequently, the situation regarding his first officer, was distinctly dreadful. And Jim questioned if he'd ever really be prepared to attempt to deal with those two subjects. But he also knew he would have to, eventually. The young blonde decided he didn't particularly want to think about any of it at the present time, feeling pre-emptively anxious about talking to Spock. He walked into the bathroom to try to do something positive to his hair. He looked in the mirror and stopped in his tracks, Jim had forgotten just how 'disgusting' he looked, his skin was sallow, his golden tan nowhere to be found. As was the case for his physique, his toned muscles lost to inactivity. It only proved to remind him of how his clothes hung off him, no longer tight and well-fitting. His mind maliciously tried to flash back to a time he especially did not wish to think about, and fought it off by splashing his face with cold water. Jim willed himself to calm his mind and forget about that time so long ago. And he succeeded, to a degree, remembering that he had an apology to give.

* * *

A while later, after thorough brain storming on how to word and go about his apology, Jim was out the door. Fortunately due to the close proximity of Spock's abode, approximately 3.64 meters to the left of his own, he did not have time to psyche himself out and turn around. In less than a minute Jim found himself standing in front his first officers apartment exactly where he had stood the night before. He then recalled, in a rather fuzzy manner how he had just, charged into Spock and nearly fell over… and how Spock had had held him up with that surprisingly warm and firm hand. Jim's body flushed involuntarily and he coughed slightly, trying to get himself together. He reached out and pressed the button to trigger the 'door bell'. The Captain could vaguely hear the alert sounding beyond the door, but there was no answer. Jim stood there for about five minutes before sighing deeply, in either relief or disappointment. His mind wandered to curiosity as to where his Commander was, what he was doing, how he was doing, but he brushed the concern away, telling himself it was in no way his business either way. Before he could help it he found himself missing his first officers deep, controlled voice, his face, his presence, their banter. It was beginning to feel like forever since they had sat down together for a meal, a chess game, or just to have a long, deep conversation or debate. He refused to count his blunders from the previous night as proper interactions with Spock. Jim began to walk down the corridor, venturing towards what he hoped and assumed was the exit. He fished his communicator out of his pocket and tried to connect to Bones, to no avail. Jim's blonde brows dipped and his plush, yet dry to his standards, lips thinned to an aggravated line. He questioned where to go, what to do with his time, he only now realized just how accustomed to the routine of the Enterprise he had become. Wake up, alpha shift and comfortable banter with the bridge crew that had become like family to him, dinner (likely with Spock or Bones) a game of chess with Spock, or sometimes simply doing reports in each other's company, then sleep and repeat. Now he felt he had screwed up his friendship with his Commander, the crew was off doing their own things without active duty drawing them all together. And Jim truly had practically nothing to do, he could barely even recall how he used to spend all of his time before Starfleet.

He made it outside the apartment building and decided to check in on his baby. He promptly found himself at the shipyard, and outside of the USS Enterprise. It seemed so incomprehensibly immense from the ground, so intimidating. But he knew that what lied within was his true home, the one place he felt he belonged. A few of the officers in the vicinity looked incredulously as they saw Captain Kirk saunter by and enter his nearly derelict ship. He made his way to engineering after seeing that Scotty had logged in for maintenance duty before he had even approached the engineering deck he could somehow hear the loud yelling of his favourite scotsman. "Ah Cap'n, didn't know ye'd be stoppin' by! How's yer head? I cannae believe you managed to drink more than even _I_ did!"

Jim smiled somewhat sheepishly before responding. "Surprisingly no hangover, but how is it that your not on the ground groaning, or in bed right now? You were absolutely plastered last night too, if memory serves."

"Aye, come on now, I could down twenty pints and be fine, that's the Scott blood I tell ye." The engineer grinned before clapping his Captain on the shoulder, "Well, may as well put ye to work if yer here!"

Hours passed and Jim ended up somehow covered in some kind of grease and sweat. "Maybe we should get you down to engineering instead of command! I could use yer help fixing her." The scot slapped a metal post in reference to 'her', and he was also covered in the same muck, but considerably less sweat.

"I'd love to help put my baby back together, plus I think I'm going to have a lot free time until she's back off the ground." Just as he was about to swipe some grease off his face, with his subsequently grease covered hand, his comm. sounded off. He reluctantly wiped his hands on his pants and flipped it open. "Hey, what'd ya call me for? I just got off duty at the infirmary." Bones' gruff voice came through, and he smiled in relief.

"What if I just missed ya? Wanna grab some grub?" he tried to wipe his glistening and dirty forehead with the back of his left hand as he anticipated and hoped his CMO would agree.

"Yeah sure, I have to send off a report or two, then I'll meet ya at the main building, ya big baby." Jim could almost hear Bones shaking head, and rolling his eyes. Before he could provide a witty retort, McCoy had hung up on him.

In response to which, Jim pouted. "Guess I'm outta here. Thanks for today Scotty, let me know if you could use my help again." His pout dissolved as he smiled at his muck covered friend. He looked down to his clothes and decided it was a lost cause to clean up before meeting up with Leonard. Though he did stop to at the very least wash his hands before leaving.

He met up with Bones outside the main building, they had gotten there at about the same time as luck would have had it. They discussed for a short time where to eat, and quickly agreed to the same place they ate most nights during their time at the academy. It was a quaint little dive still run by an independent family business. The owners and waiters knew McCoy and Kirk very well, as well as all of their favourites. And the second they walked in, they were greeted with warm smiles, and Kirk received an earnest hug from the older woman who ran the place. She didn't say much, but she did say she was quite glad Jim wasn't dead. They shuffled towards their old 'usual' seats and ordered 'the usual'.

"So, Bones, what am I supposed to do for a year while my baby is grounded?" Jim spoke with a slightly sullen face, pushing around his food. McCoy looked up from his burger and shrugged.

"I don't know Jimbo, talk to the admiralty. See if they have some use for ya. I'm already slated to work at the main infirmary for the foreseeable future. I might take a trip to spend some time with Joanna too, if the ex-wife will let me, that is." Leonard scowled thinking about his ex-wife, and proceeded to stuff his face with the familiar comfort food.

Jim's brows dipped a tad, as he began to look almost deep in thought. "But what could I do? What do command officers even do when they're off active duty?" Jim took a bite of a singular curly fry and contemplated the next six months to a year of his life.

"They probably sit at desks, do clerical work, and annoy people like you up in Space on actual ships, and actual missions." Bones smirked a little, while a look of disgust and distaste settled on Jim's face.

"And what, become washed up desk jockeys' who's job is specifically to ruin the days of everyone else?" Jim pouted and his face soured further. "Well no matter what the admiralty says, I'm going to stick around and help Scotty with the repairs for a while at least, that'll probably keep me sane."

Bones nodded in agreement with the idea but his eyes narrowed and he looked up at his friend across the table. "Just know if you somehow injure yourself or get yourself stuck in another Jefferies tube, I am not leaving the infirmary to get you out."

Jim's mouth twitched as a lighthearted smirk found it's way on his face. He feigned hurt, shook his head and rolled his eyes in the general direction of his CMO. "That was one time! And it was Scotty and Keenser that got me out if I recall correctly."

"Maybe so, but I still had to patch up your damned ridiculous self afterwards." They scowled at each other for a short minute before breaking into hearty laughter. Jim wiped a single leaking tear from his eye as he calmed his laughing fit. They finished their meal in the silence of old friends. Before they received the cheque, McCoy broke said silence. "So, how are you holding up, really? No bullshit."

Jim almost flinched, but held himself in check. He automatically thought to lie and indeed bullshit his friend, but with a small sigh decided against it. "Honestly? Not great. Dying is a hell of a thing. Every time I try to remember… it… I fling myself into a panic. I haven't been this bad in years Bones. Since our first year at the academy probably." The blonde took a breath and a look of disappointment overtook his features. McCoy knew his friend well enough to know that disappointment he saw was directed only at Jim himself.

The Captain was about to continue before Leonard lightly interjected. "Before ya continue, don't ya dare be disappointed with yourself. You died, medically and literally died. And because no one else has experienced what you have, there is no precedence on how ya should feel or react to having died. So by that standard, it is my professional opinion that you are handling all of this damn well, kid." By the end of his statement, he had assumed his full, fatherly tone.

"I suppose you have a point. I'm hoping staying distracted will help keep my mind off everything until I'm mentally prepared to process it all." The air surrounding the two men and their table turned serious, and their faces held tired concern.

Bones sent a very small smile towards his friend as he spoke. "Alright well, promise me if it gets bad you'll call. Even if I can't exactly help in the moment, I'll do everythin' I can."

Jim nodded gently and his mouth formed a small, drained, but genuine smile. He pushed himself up from the booth seat, and McCoy did the same. They walked over to the counter and paid their bill, smiling and thanking their kind waiter. They idly chatted and bickered on their way back to their respective apartments, and said a friendly goodnight when they parted. Bones felt a certain concern, now having confirmation that Jim was struggling with wha had happened. But he shook it off to the best of his ability, attempting to be grateful that Jim had admitted to his struggle reasonably quickly.

Jim himself, entered his apartment, and felt a very slight weight lifted from his shoulders with having told Bones the truth. Deciding he didn't want to wreck his feeling of passable peacefulness, he stripped off his casual clothes of the day and collapsed onto his bed. He fell asleep with enough haste, that he hadn't another thought.

 **A/N: Well isn't Spock now, always putting off making definitive decisions. To** **be completely honest this chapter has been done for almost a month but I only just got around to editing it. With full time work and getting strep throat you better believe I've become . Well I really hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, please let me know what you thought! Reviews are my lifeblood and I seriously appreciate every review I get. Thanks for reading! Y'ALL ARE THE BEST!**


	10. Prey

Morning dawned brightly in the east as it always did on Earth and with that, the sun rose earliest and shone its first light in the windows of all Academy apartments and dorms that resided on the Eastern-most parts of the building. And of course, Leonard McCoy happened to be assigned an apartment in the Eastern wing, to his utter distaste. While he had the windows darkened to 90% opacity at night, it still allowed a small amount of natural sunlight into the room come morning. On most occasions, Leonard would be able to sleep through the light, and its early arrival, but due to his recent increase in stress he had become yet again quite the light sleeper. The doctor would commonly wake up, begrudgingly, as soon as the dimmed light would stream over and shine directly into his eyes, and go about his day. But the knowledge that he wasn't on duty until the evening made him decide to make an attempt at falling back asleep, and perhaps actually sleeping in for a change.

To Bones' later surprise, he had managed to fall back asleep, after whisper shouting for the computer to black out all windows 100%. He felt noticably more well rested then he had upon his earlier rude awakening, despite that, he wore his usual gruff subject-less glare as he woke up and began his day. As he went about his somewhat orderly and scheduled morning 'routine' his glare began to lessen and his expression softened. He drank his piping hot coffee, fresh off the replicator, and scratched his stubbly chin. McCoy picked up his PADD to check any messages he may have received while he slept. On most nights, whether he was on the Enterprise or on Earth serving in an infirmary, he received multiple messages from nurses, and on rare occasion, he would get a random middle of the night comm. from Jim. He would wake up to his 'pile-up' of communications, and not much would be out of place. But on this particular morning, he received a message from someone that made the corners of his grumpy lips upturn happily. Carol Marcus had asked if he would join her for a vid and lunch around 1300. He quickly fired off a short but genuinely delighted agreement. With his excitement, he remembered a certain blonde friend of his, and his brows furrowed with subtle concern. He thought of Jim's admission of his struggle with his more than _near_ -death experience and felt the old and familiar need to check in on his best friend. He recalled a memory like reopening an old wound that wasn't his own, and suddenly he heard the sound of Jim's piercing screaming in his ears all over again.

 _Leonard had fallen asleep that night with a somewhat concerned scowl on his face. Jim had been at the same old bar on the outskirts of the Academy, pissed drunk and making a pass at almost anything that moved. The slightly weathered by time bartender knew Jim and his exploits well, and he also knew to comm. McCoy whenever Jim got too terribly wasted and stupid. That night had been one of those times. The doctor who shared his dorm space with Jim Kirk, who had somehow become his best friend and occasional caregiver, immediately made his way to the bar. He knew the routine, talk Jim down from his idiocy, put his ego in check, and drag him home to sleep it off. They had made their way back to their rooms surprisingly quickly, and the second the brash, drunk blonde made it anywhere near his bed, he collapsed onto it without another word. It wasn't until 0400 that Leonard was rudely awakened by dreadful screaming and slurred yelling. Due to the fact that such an episode had only occurred once before, McCoy groggily assumed that perhaps Jim had managed to get into a fight in their dorm room in the middle of the damn night. "What's all this damn commotion for?" the doctor spat out as he neared the source of the screaming. His left arm had been tiredly raised to scratch his scruffy bearded jaw, but the arm quickly dropped as his eyes shot open, now fully awake. Jim was still in his bed, blood-curdling screams, and indistinct fearful shouting leaving his lips as he thrashed violently. Leonard rushed to his friend's side, grabbing his shoulders and attempting to wake him. "Jim, Jim! Wake up! It's just a dream!" he tried to hold the sweat covered blonde down but Jim struggled against him._

 _"You can't… have them…. Fucker! I won't let you… my kids… I don't give a shit what you do to me!" The words were somewhat slurred with sleep but the general message and fear and fury seeped through every word Jim shouted. McCoy continued to shake his friend's shoulders but it did practically nothing to rouse him from his unconscious state. The yelling was reduced from garbled sentences to only agonized screams of "No!". It was nearly twenty more minutes before Jim began to calm, tears staining his face and his pillow, sweat soaking his sheets. Leonard almost hoped that Jim would be able to slip back into a calm deep sleep but instead he woke up, with bloodshot eyes and a piercing headache. "Bones…? What are you doing in my room?... I have the worst headache." As the blonde began to sit up, he could feel the cold wetness all around him and began to realize what exactly had happened even before his friend could answer._

 _"You were shoutin' about kids, your kids, and a couple other things.. what the hell happened Jim? If I'm gonna be your doctor, ya gotta give me something to go on here!" Leonard let out a frustrated sigh and ran a somewhat shaky hand through his short brunette hair._

 _"I… I'm going to have to get Pike to release my full file to you… **I'm** not even allowed to talk about it." Jim sighed with an intense exhaustion behind it, before letting out a disgusted huff of laughter spitting out the last bit._

 _"Then that's what we do tomorrow. Get some proper rest kid, you need it. And so do I." Bones replied with his voice gruff and gravelly as he got up wearily and left the room with reluctant concern._

* * *

Leonard winced at the memory, as he felt his concern peak once again. He dug his communicator out of his pocket and it chirped its usual electronic chirp as he flipped it open. He called his friend and it rang, unanswered for nearly a minute before it connected and he heard the groggy and slurred voice of a Jim that had just woken up. "How're ya feelin?" Bones tentatively inquired, knowing full well that Jim was not particularly a morning person.

"I actually don't feel too awful, I slept surprisingly decently. My body's probably still just grateful to be out of that _dreadful_ hospital bed." Leonard could hear the dramatics occurring on the other side of the communication.

"Yeah yeah, remind me next time to let your sorry ass stay dead," McCoy questioned the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, worried it was not at all the time to be joking about Jim dying. But to his relief, Jim laughed it off, seemingly genuinely.

"Alright, sorry Bones, you know I appreciate you dragging my 'sorry ass' back from the beyond." Jim chuckled as he spoke, and Leonard was quite glad to hear it.

"So, ya heading to the main building to talk to the admirals?" the doctor inquired as he queued up his second cup of coffee for the day.

"Yeah, but first I have an apology to give to a certain Vulcan neighbour of mine." Bones could almost hear the grimace in his friend's voice, along with the lazily masked nervous chuckle.

"Oh good, what did you do now man?" McCoy let out a humour filled sigh and began to drink his coffee. He heard a less humorous sigh come from Jim.

"That night we all got smashed at the bar, after we split up, I may have, _accidentally_ tried to go into Spock's apartment instead of my own."

"Please tell me the hobgoblin didn't let ya in." Bones inquired with a voice of concern, though he was struggling to stifle hearty laughter.

"He did. And I made a complete fool of myself, likely ruining a year of carefully tended to friendship." The dismay and moping were evident in the Captain's voice. "Want to come with me as a buffer for my pathetic grovelling?"

"I can just hear the puppy dog eyes, but alas I cannot. I have a lunch date with Carol." Leonard's tone quickly turned proud and excited, very much looking forward to his date.

Jim heaved out a sigh before responding. "Fine, that is a very valid excuse. I'm actually proud of ya, enjoy your date Bones."

"Oh, I will. Comm. me later if you need anything." Bones smiled and with that their communication disconnected.

* * *

Jim rolled out of bed, feeling his muscles tense as he moved, his musculature and endurance was improving at a remarkably rapid rate, his body was healing itself and reverting back to its previous state, which as Jim pondered it for a moment, slightly concerned him. He thought to attempt to remember to tell Bones about that next time they spoke. He stood up, scratching the section of pelvis the peeked out of his black Starfleet boxer shorts. As he walked out of his bedroom and towards the kitchen, he stifled a yawn. Quite quickly, as per usual, he queued up some coffee, hazelnut flavoured this time, from the replicator and began to consider just how he was going to present his apology. He considered for a moment pretending he didn't remember a single thing from the night, except for chess and Spock leaving. But he felt Spock deserved a better, and more honest apology. He drank his coffee, delighted at the familiar treat of the hazelnut flavour. After he quickly consumed the entirety of his coffee, he made the conscious decision to take a shower. As he stepped into the shower, he continued his valiant effort to think of ways to apologize and still maintain and preserve their friendship. He wracked his brain and came up with near to nothing. As Jim stepped out of the shower, feeling relaxed and cleansed, he decided to go with the memory loss excuse, it seemed like possibly the only route that ended in their preserved friendship.

Jim somewhat leisurely dried himself off and threw on one of his favourite slightly worn in casual uniforms. He grabbed his communicator, shoved it in his pocket and was hastily out the door. He made his way to Spock's apartment door just as quickly as he knew he would, but dreaded it none the less. Just as he was about to ring the notification bell, the door slid open on its own, revealing a well dressed, in uniform half-Vulcan. Jim flinched slightly and attempted with great mental fervor to think of something passable to say.

"Ah mister Spock, fancy seeing you here. No robe this time?" Just as Jim's lip began to quirk its way into a smirk, he realized what he had just said. ' _Oh just great. So much for the "Oh Spock, I'm sorry I can't remember a thing!" defence.'_ The Captain felt a very strong urge to slap himself for making such a simple and idiotic mistake. Jim could in no way hide the look of disappointment and regret that overtook his face, but he shamefully raised his eyes to meet his first officer's. He could have sworn he noticed a tinge of green gracing the edges of Spock's cheeks, but feeling his own embarrassed flush warm his face, he looked away at a nonexistent point of interest.

"As I am presently leaving to attend a lecture, it would be quite inappropriate to be dressed in robes meant purely for personal and meditative uses. May I assist you in some way, Captain?"

Jim let out a nervous chuckle of laughter as his cerulean eyes found their way back to Spock. "When's the lecture starting?" he inquired casually.

The Vulcan answered promptly as usual, "The lecture begins at 1015, in approximately one hour." Jim made note of the somewhat unusual lack of eye contact coming from his Commander but pressed forward anyway.

"Well as you said you've got an hour, could I, uh, talk to you for a moment, Spock?" Jim felt a bit like a fish out of water as if he had lost all of his cool, his control and his charm, all at once, in front of his Vulcan… friend. He ran his fingers through his freshly washed blonde hair and hints of the delightful lavender and sage scent of his shampoo released into the air as he did.

"If that is what you wish, you may enter," Spock spoke, his voice almost perceptibly deeper than usual, as he took a few carefully executed steps back into his apartment. Jim swallowed nervously but followed his first officer past the threshold. The room was just as he fuzzily remembered it to be, aside from being more adequately lit during the day.

Jim felt his heart rate increase as he breathed in and out, with every step he took closer to where Spock was standing. A nervous lump made its way into his throat, and Jim coughed slightly, attempting to cover his nerves. In other situations somewhat similar to the present, Spock would be staring directly at Jim waiting with what always seemed to be indifferent patience. But as Jim looked toward his Commander, he found that the Vulcan's deep brown eyes were focused elsewhere. As he followed Spock's line of sight he quickly discovered he was looking at nothing in particular. Suddenly he felt even more apologetic and shameful then before he had arrived. _'How bad did I fuck this up, that he won't even look at me?'_

Jim grimaced and began speaking before even giving a single thought towards what he would say. "I need to apologize, my actions the other night were… inappropriate and uncalled for. I just.. I hope that I haven't completely wrecked our friendship ." as the blonde spoke, his confidence faltered ever so slightly, in a sort of tremor that the common ears would have missed. He also practically vomited the words out at an almost impressive speed. He coughed again, choking on a nervous laugh that travelled up his throat. Jim raised his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, waiting anxiously for Spock to respond, or finally look at him, something, anything. But it was another minute or so of painfully awkward silence before the raven-haired Vulcan turned his head towards his Captain and met the gaze of the lapis eyes boring into his own.

"I believe our 'friendship' was pre-emptively ill-fated, Captain. The fault of which, lies with me." Spock spoke with a hint of something in his voice, that Jim only very slightly noticed. The blonde's brows drew together and upward, frown taking over his chiselled features.

"What do you mean, what the hell are you talking about?" Kirk began to feel defensive, almost hurt but shook himself out of it, determined to get to the bottom of what his first officer meant.

"There is, a matter I should have immediately informed you of, but... have withheld for some time." Jim's feelings of hurt began to morph into confusion, causing his right eyebrow to quirk expectantly, waiting for Spock to continue. When he didn't, he broke the palpable silence.

"What matter? Does this have something to do with you staying with me while I was in a coma? If it is, Bones already told me about that. Though it still doesn't really make sense to me, and I'm pretty damn sure he was lying about it…" The Captain shook his head a little, but looked back to his Commander and could have sworn he heard Spock let out a small puff, almost like a sigh.

"The doctor spoke truthfully, which does relate to the matter I previously mentioned. During and following the events involving Khan, I began exhibiting odd behaviours and experiencing seemingly inexplicable... occurrences." The Vulcan practically trailed off, which gave Jim even more cause for concern, and suspicion. When Spock didn't continue, Jim inquired further.

" _Seemingly_ inexplicable occurrences huh? That tells me that you did figure it out." The blonde's left eyebrow rose inquisitively, prodding for an answer. Jim had to hold back the urge to tap his foot impatiently.

Spock seemed to inhale deeply, steadying himself almost before he began to speak. "After intensive meditation and consideration I have reached the most logical conclusion, which to say, is that a specific type of… bond has formed between you...and I." As Jim let out a sigh of relief, he could have sworn he saw Spock clench his jaw uncomfortably.

"Well, I mean, I thought that was obvious, you know in human culture we call bonds like that, friendship." Jim was about to let out an eased chuckle, but Spock interjected promptly.

"I am aware of the terms used for human social bonds, Captain. Vulcan bonds bare distinct differences." Spock shifted his weight from one foot to the other rigidly. The sun beamed in through the leftmost window in the Commander's living room, it peaked its way over to where Jim had been standing and highlighted the golden strands of his short hair. Something that did not go unnoticed or unappreciated by the Vulcan in the room. The words Spock spoke were easily understandable, but the meaning behind them, Jim did not yet fully fathom.

"Wait, so, we have a Vulcan bond? What kind of bond are we talkin' about here?" Jim asked, his nerves were still on end, but his curiosity was winning over all else.

"There is a... Vulcan word for the specific type of bond that I have come to believe exists between the two of us." Spock hesitated something that did not go over Jim's head. The blonde raised his brows in anticipation, waiting, rather impatiently, for the dark-haired man's continuation. Just as Jim was about to interject with a general 'Well?' Spock did continue, albeit unusually quietly. "T'h'yla."

The Captain frowned, slightly taken aback, vaguely recalling having heard, or felt the word before from someone quite similar to the person in front of him. "T'h'yla… that sounds almost familiar, what does it mean, exactly?" Jim spoke the foreign word brokenly, twisting his tongue in a thorough effort.

Spock, who had been standing somewhat adjacent to where Jim was, moved. Taking two calculated steps backward, beginning to turn around. He snapped his arms behind his back, standing up terribly straight, and he no longer faced his Captain. "It is reasonably rare amongst modern Vulcans. It refers to a… lifelong bond between friends, brothers, lovers… and so on."

Jim stared at the back of his first officer. His uniform was neatly pressed and without a single crease, but he could see the impressions of the toned muscles that lied beneath the dark fabric. His mind hiccuped slightly over the word 'lovers' but he instinctually snorted lightly, saying the first thing that popped into his rather confused mind. "What, like soul mates?" A humour-filled smirk found it's way on his face as he awaited Spock's quick rebuttal, but it did not come.

Instead, the Vulcan slowly turned around, dark eyes portraying something Jim couldn't place. "It is… somewhat similar to the human concept of soul mates." There was a quality to Spock's voice that Jim didn't know if he'd heard before. He considered for a moment, thinking it was perhaps doubt but brushed it away. Jim's frown deepened, drawing a blank, trying to process what his friend was saying. "That is why I must recommend that we cease any and all non-professional contact." Spock took in a breath and straightened his already pin-straight posture.

Something struck Jim, and his heart clenched, old hurt and abandonment squeezed it further. "What? Why?" Jim's voice was defensive and his body tensed.

"I do not know if I will be able to maintain the amount of required control to be in your presence in a non-professional environment as time progresses," Spock spoke with his usual chilly tone but as Jim's eyes dropped for a moment, he saw that Spock's hands were tensed, almost into clenched fists. There was silence for a few moments, Spock did not continue or further explain, and Jim, with his mind reeling, attempting to catch up, said nothing.

Jim clenched his right fist, and looked up, meeting his commander's dark brown eyes. "Then don't." his voice was firm and his light blue eyes pierced forward, staring intensely in Spock's direction. Before his Vulcan friend had even opened his mouth to respond, Jim felt his stomach flip. He questioned what he was saying, wondering if this was the right course of action, trying to think of any alternatives. He came up empty.

"Do not what, exactly? You do not know of what you speak." It was almost as if Spock scoffed, but once James T. Kirk got it in his head to do something, it was nearly impossible to steer him off course.

"Don't control yourself, would it kill you to let loose a little?" As he said the words, Jim no longer knew or cared what was happening, all he felt was determination, he was set on figuring out the cause and solution to the seemingly non-issue plaguing their friendship.

Spock took two broad steps closer to his Captain, eyes narrowed, his face appearing almost, perhaps, angry. He was still about 3 feet away from Jim but the closeness was wildly apparent to Jim himself. "I do not believe you comprehend what it is that I am controlling." Spock's voice was tight, almost as if he were speaking through gritted teeth.

Jim instinctually took a step closer to the person in front of him, nearly fully crossing the distance. A tiny bit of his signature smirk crossed his face, feeling quite rebellious. "I think I do know, almost better then you do." Spock inhaled visibly, exhaling in what could have almost been a sigh. He appeared to be thinking, which is what Jim assumed as he looked over his commander's face in close detail. He noticed the ever so slight specks of gold in Spock's deep brown, almost inky black eyes. He also came to quickly appreciate the graceful points of his eyebrows. His eyes slowly travelled downward and for the what seemed like the first time, he noticed the gentle curve and upturn of Spock's lips. Jim heard an only slightly audible huff of air and with that, his first officer gracefully turned from him, taking a few steps away, creating distance between them.

"You are my Captain, and beyond that, as my friend, I do not believe you grasp what it is that you say," Spock spoke quietly, and he did not turn back to face his Captain.

Jim thought he heard a ticking sound, although it may have just been his own impatience he heard. He felt frustrated, confused, nearly angry, and something else he wouldn't actively admit. "Then tell me what you mean damn it, am I just supposed to guess? I'm not about to throw away our friendship on the grounds of 'we have a Vulcan bond and you can't control yourself'"

Jim let out a frustrated sigh, and with that Spock spun on his left heel and aggressively crossed the space he had created. The way he moved and the energy he gave off reminded Jim instantly of the Narada incident and how he had purposefully antagonized Spock as a way to remove him from command of the Enterprise. And thus, he also recalled how Spock had rushed and attacked him. At that moment a shiver of panic went through Jim, but he stood his ground. In approximately one second, Spock was in front of him, close enough for Jim to feel his controlled breath. They stood like that for what seemed to be much too long, wordlessly, intensely staring at one another.

Jim was almost completely sure that at that point Spock was exercising every ounce of restraint he had to not absolutely throttle Jim. Neither of them moved, and Kirk didn't know whether he should feel awkward or afraid. Since James Tiberius Kirk doesn't feel fear, of course, he began to feel a certain awkwardness, but he refused to back down, even if it meant being pummeled by his first officer. But nothing came, and just as Spock was about to draw back and walk away, Jim grabbed Spock by the shirt and pulled him back somewhat aggressively. "Come on Spock, this is ridiculous, you've never held your tongue when it comes to telling me off, so why start now?" Jim wore a devilish grin, with cocked eyebrows, waiting to hear his answer, provoking whom he thought was _his_ prey.

Although he got something of the reaction he wanted, it shocked him nonetheless. Spock snarled, and quickly apprehended both of Jim's arms, twisting him around and driving him into the wall directly behind them. Jim had turned his face just in time to prevent getting completely checked by the wall, he tried to look behind him to say something, perhaps an apology of sorts, but his half-Vulcan commander was finally utilizing his superior strength and quickly overpowered him. Spock gripped Jim's arms and had them tightly pressed against his back. Not enough do any damage, but enough to sting a little and prevent the Captain from moving from his grasp. Jim could hear Spock's breath, he could feel it on the back of his neck, and the tiny blonde hairs the resided there stood on end. He could also subsequently feel as Spock wedged his knee between his legs, and pressed himself into Jim's back. Kirk always found himself surprised when he encountered Spock's truly impressive, toned, figure. He tried to move ever so slightly and found as he did Spock only held tighter and pressed more firmly. "Spock-" he began to speak, but his first officer swiftly cut him off by raising his knee further between Jim's legs. Instinctively, Jim pressed himself back, against Spock and an unexpected hardness. He felt Spock drop his head slightly, with his short dark hair tickling the crook of his neck, warm breath searing his skin. A shiver ran down his spine and Jim almost forgot where he was, what he was doing, he was nearly far gone, lost in the moment. The small bit of him that remained coherent and questioning, felt the need to inquire upon the reasoning for his present circumstances. "Spock, wha-" he attempted to speak clearly but was cut off yet again by his commander nearly growling at him. Jim himself had become the prey.

"Do not speak… another word."

 **A/N: Aight well, this took a long time. I edited it so many times, and changed things around slightly so many times, I don't think I have the capacity to check on it anymore. BUT I have the next chapter all planned out, I'll start it tomorrow most likely. So, what do you guys think? Things are startin to heat up! I can't tell you how stupidly giddy I was while re-reading that last paragraph there. I thoroughly appreciate all reviews and comments, so send your thoughts and opinions my way! Y'ALL ARE DA BOMB DOT COM**


End file.
